


The Hero in Me

by meupclose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Dean Winchester, Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon!Dean, Dreams vs. Reality, Fallen!Castiel, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Loss of Control, M/M, Nightmares, Torture, Violence, War, and family feels, dark themes, hybrid!dean, slow burn destiel, there is fluff between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meupclose/pseuds/meupclose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael flies to greet his long lost brother Lucifer as he exits the cage. Their punishment fuels revenge and they band together immediately to destroy the world their father chose over them. Their act of free will limits God's ability to intervene, however, there is the perfect person for the job; The Righteous Man Dean Winchester. </p><p>His new angelic powers comes at a great cost to Dean, who is at risk of losing himself to the darkness of Hell once again. Can Dean find the power within to complete his destiny and stop the Apocalypse?</p><p>“You are the perfect hybrid of Heaven, Earth, and Hell. All acquired by an act of Free Will Dean Winchester. It is prophesied that the Righteous Man will start and end the Apocalypse. He will need a shield and a sword for battle that is more power than anything man can forge.”</p><p>** THIS STORY IS BEING PICKED BACK UP! and undergoing revisions please bare with me! ** --cas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> The entire plot up until Lucifer exiting the cage is canon compliant in season 4, including Castiel’s death by Raphael. From that point forward, we will be entering into an AU Apocalypse with both Michael and Lucifer running the show. Michael will be using the younger John Winchester as his vessel regardless of canon. 
> 
> I have always written stories with Destiel, so there will be an eventual romantic relationship with them cause they are soulmates. There will be a balance of fighting/gore/angst and domestic/sex/fluff because we need it as bad as they do. In between a handful of chapters I will insert mini chapters of the Archangels- it contributes to the plot I promise but it is mostly because I think they are fascinating and I hope you will enjoy how I am writing their story, even though they are the bad guys.
> 
> Wish me luck! Because this story has been bouncing around in my head for months now, Id love your support and feedback!

Clouds in the sky blackened, swirling in rough circles-- hiding the rays of sunshine until darkness engulfed the building. A flutter of wings had landed beside the two brothers before a snap of fingers sent the Winchesters into a nearby plane. Michael had no more use for the stupid humans.

A human male vessel stood scared next to the Angel. Michael regarding the pathetic weak creature for a moment, a painted sneer filled his face before he shoved him into the open pit. The scream echoed around the room as the walls crumbled and nearly caved in around him. Deep resonating shakes rumbled the Earth below his feet, the world mourning the coming angel that had signified a fall of punished by his hand. But Michael remained perched on the edge of the hole, hand out-stretched. His bright golden wings flared out, each feather reflecting the small amount of light, waiting for the grasp of his brother to touch.

A tunnel of light burst from the deepest part of Hell to enter the Heavens skyward. Michael remained still.

The vessel tossed into the pit moments before reached out, sliding his fingers into his-- strong hands grasped his forearm as pitch black wings unfurl into the Earth plane. To an outsider, it would have been a scary sight.

Lucifer’s smile was pulling widely at his brother, wings shaking off the dust from years of confinement in the cage. Michael breathed in an unnecessary sigh of relief, the younger John Winchester’s vessel was the best he could do at the moment. He was reluctant to say he was surprised when Anael tried to foil his plans for the Winchesters. It worked out in his favor to gain access to a proper vessel without forcing his hand with Dean at this current time. His brother's vessel was a depressed man, desperate for redemption. He opened his heart to Michael, begging for a purpose, and he promised the man his brother would give him everything and more. He was pleased to see that even after throwing him into the open pit, the human still said yes to his brother.

Michael had dreamed of this moment for thousands of years. That day his father commanded him to fight his brother, he knew something was wrong. The orders were direct but given as a question that confused him at the time. With orders it was simple, you didn't fight them, you followed them and made your father proud. He realized too late that his father was giving him a choice, a taste of free will like the sheep on Earth called it.

It had been his choice to exile his brother or not, and he chose wrong because of his conditioning to follow orders no matter what; never to question. Years, he lived in confinement, much like the cage he had put Lucifer in, regret and revenge stewing, blackening his pure heart, till the only thing that kept him going was giving out the orders to line up the Winchesters to free his brother.

Lucifer clasped both hands onto his strong shoulders, ash blonde hair darkened by soot and blood stained burns littered his arms and face. With a shake of his head, Lucifer healed his vessel.

“Brother! It's nice to see you-- you look terrible.”

He was always the one to make light of a bad situation, ‘Lighten up Michael,' he would say, earning a round of laughs from their fellow siblings further proving his name The Light-bringer. He always was able to draw out the smallest of smiles on Michael’s lips.

“I have missed you,” the sentiment rang deep within Michael’s vessel at admitting something so freely. He swallowed the regret he wanted to pour out and instead pushed forward with the words that have haunted him since that fateful day. “That moment of weakness has tortured me for years Lucifer. I have but only dreamed of this day, and prayed to our father that it would come.”

Michael furrowed his brows at the bad taste of free will on his lips, and Lucifer noticed his change in attitude.

“What has father been up to?” He peered over expecting answers into his brother's eyes, but Michael shook his head in huge disappointment, “He has not been in Heaven for many a century now. The other Angels don’t know they are working for me now.”

Revenge crept up on him, drawing his gaze to the ground. Lucifer breathed it in, could taste the sin in the air rolling off of Michael in sweet waves. He cradled Michael’s cheek lovingly. They were but the closest siblings, created only moments apart, almost twins if you hadn't blinked during their creation. Lucifer smiled brightly, “Dear brother, what is it you want to do about our pain?”

Michael pulled away, back arching up to stand tall, shoulders flare back with his wings spread into an offensive position ready for flight. Each feather ripples straight, a curl upon his top lip with a vengeful sneer. Lucifer copied the stance, enormous paper-thin black wings, more bat like then the down feathers flared out wide destroying what was left of the room. They posed wildly for a moment before Michael spoke, “we earn our revenge on this planet dear brother. He has always loved them more, tricked me to exile you-- my family because you were brave enough to stand up for what you believed in. Does he want free will? He has it.”

Blackness pulled at the edges of Lucifer’s eyes, “I love revenge,” They shared an evil grin not meant for such beautiful angels, before taking flight into the coming storm. “Let's make the planet burn.”


	2. Burned Wings

The bright white light that shot up into the sky seconds after they appeared in their seats only proved one thing, Lucifer was, in fact, free.

“I am sorry Dean,” Sam whispered while glancing around the plane.

“I didn’t know she was the last piece, God--” He sat back in the chair, large frame crowding the small space with his eyes pulled closed tight. Sam knew it was his all his fault; he shouldn’t have listened to that demon bitch. Dean per usual had been right all along, and with a sigh, he looked over at his brother, white knuckled and scared.

“You okay?” Sam asked realizing Dean wasn’t listening to his apology. “We should be landing soon, I hope, who sent us here?”

All he got was a deep intake of air, and a pained expression from his brother making him smile. No matter how bad of a situation they were in, Dean’s fear of flying would always trump it. Sam leaned back against the chair, his arm pressed reassuring into Dean’s forearm, and let everything sink in. The entire time, deep down something told him he should have listened to his brother from the start, but the pull of demon blood ended up being stronger, even when Dean, who was dead, walked through the door alive, he still didn’t stand a chance at stopping. The moment they found Castiel and made sure Chuck was alive, he was demanding to be locked up in the panic room until he was clean.

The car they grabbed by the airport was anything but Baby, but Dean pushed the import to get to Chuck’s house. He hadn’t mentioned it to Sam, but Dean was on prayer fifty at the moment, begging for Castiel to get his feathery ass into the car. A dark, regretful, pit of worry sunk into his stomach at the thought of Castiel being dead. Raphael was an Archangel, he knew Cas didn’t stand a chance when he had sent him away to stop Sam, but to not have Cas around anymore frightened him. Dean glanced over at his brother; Sam was quiet during the drive. The sun started to set and cast hues of reds and golds on his tense face. His brother looked to be keeping it together for his sake, but he knew they both really fucked up, on an Apocalyptic scale.

The house came into view as Dean pulled the car into the driveway. From the outside, it looked in perfect shape. The windows and door in place, no extensive burn marks from being attacked by lighting. Dean sighed in relief; maybe he was ok. Weapons in hand they banged on the door, “Chuck?! Cas!?” Dean wiggled the unlocked handle, opening the door slowly, guns drawn. Dean stepped through first.

“Cas?” A crunch of glass under Dean’s boot stopped their advancement. With a shared look, Sam tried the light, but it was fried out. “Chuck?” Sam called out in a hoarse whisper, they took another step inside and closed the door.

“Whoa,” Dean gasped as they saw the complete destruction of the living room. Furniture littered the floor in splinters; windows were blown out even if they looked in perfect condition on the outside. Everywhere they looked the destruction was obvious it came from an attack from Raphael.

“What happened?” Sam asked gun leading his steps down the hall toward the living room. Burn marks, dark and still smoking lined the walls up to the stairs across the hardwood floors.

“It’s like a fricken lightning storm blew through,” Dean said over the crunch of more glass as he followed his brother. They crept into the room further to see Chuck hunched on the floor, back faced away from them.

Sam let out a breath of relief, “Chuck? You ok?” hesitantly, his gun still was drawn but held tightly by his side. They combed over the area. Dean took another step into the room before his foot slipped forward slightly on something powdery. He glanced down to see the black smudged substance caught under his boot. His eyes followed the shape, black as night and in a form Dean knew too well. The muzzle of the gun dropped down slowly as he made out the beautifully imprinted wings burned into the floor. The very tips blacked the walls.

“Chuck? Where’s…” Dean stopped mid-sentence when he saw the outline of a body in the dark room. Rested in Chuck's lap was Cas’ head. Bloodstained fingers were combing through his chestnut hair lovingly. Dean’s chest tightened, attention darted from the ash of feathers, the spray of blood on his trench coat-- to the red stain pooled round and deep from the angel blade that pierced his chest and quickly put the entire incident together.

“No…” he whispered out, hands outstretched as his put his gun away. His legs gave out suddenly, knees sunk hard. “Son of a bitch!”

It couldn’t be Cas, his best friend-- he couldn’t be dead. The sob broke through his lips, tears clouded his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He shouldn’t have left him. What was he thinking? He knew what would happen. He knew! But how could he have picked his best friend over his brother? Sammy always won. Dean’s arms collapsed forward as the grief clouded his mind, he crawled towards the pair a few steps away. Black soot covered his hands and knees as he made his way to Chuck.

He realized how beautiful Cas was in death; eyes closed like he was sleeping and never happier. Dean bit his lip hard as he got closer, palm rested lovingly against his cheek, the scratch of short stubble made him want to smile fondly at the simple texture. Cas had always kept his face smooth and perfect with his Angel mojo but stopped when Dean had told him he liked the scruff on him, made him look badass. Dean didn’t know his Angel listened to him with stuff like that. Maybe he just never took the time too.

Trembling fingers touched his brow smoothed from worry. Dean prayed to see those bright blue eyes one more time. Jimmy’s tie was soaked through with blood, a deep penetrating hole through the center of it left the edges frayed and in ruins. Dean choked on another dry sob; the sword had gone right into his heart with no other wounds-- at least it was a quick death. His hands pulled up to cover his eyes as he finally cried, knowing Chuck was watching him quietly. Sam’s hands rubbed his back in small circles as he too mourned the loss.

“Dean, you have to breathe, come on man,” Sam’s voice echoed out softly to him, but Dean couldn’t hear him completely. Pain, deep in his chest tore at his insides in a way he couldn't explain. Something felt wrong under all his skin, itched and burned like thousands of bugs were scurrying to consume his head with nonsense. He couldn’t lose Cas; he couldn’t be dead. This death was all his fault, ‘God why did you make me choose? You know I would take Sam, you knew…’ Dean chanted the bitter prayer over and over. Anger shifting to sadness only made his headache, and Dean felt with all his heart that of anyone to die he was the one to deserve it.

It was as if the room went completely silent until someone was whispering into his head.

‘Worthless, you always kill your friends Dean, you deserve to be in hell boy, look at him,’

Alastair's words growled knowingly making Dean's muscles jump in triggered fright. Memories of Hell screamed out, painted a picture of him strapped on the rack. Dean opened his eyes, breaths coming out in short gasps, but the ashen hue of Cas’s face dotted with crimson was all he could focus upon. All around him blackness crowded and snuffed out the light of the room and the voices of those he should be hearing.

‘All your fault. You honestly killed an Angel. Didn’t know you had it in you to hurt something so pure-- so righteous. Someone you even loved and never did a damn thing about it,’

The demon murmured in his ear. Dean felt spit hit his face from the force of the words. At least he thought so; he felt it much like he had when Alastair cut into his body. Make him bleed and scream. Hurt him in ways he couldn't ever put back together right.

‘Selfish just like the actual demon you are,’

Alastair laughed darkly walking around his hunched body. Dean was frozen at the moment. Unable to respond, instincts faded from the hunter who should have realized he wasn't there. At least he assumed he wasn't? Dean blinked with a lost expression on his face while Alastair pulled out a three-inch blade from his table of tools. Dean blinked hard, and he was back on the rack.

‘Lets play! Come on Dean; you know you deserve it.’

Alastair pushed the tip into his right shoulder blade, twisting it to peel apart the muscles and flesh into a straight line. Blood oozed over and saturated his shirt.

‘Scream for me, pretty boy.’ The applied pressure pushed the blade in slowing, ‘you know how I like it.’ The demon whispered, face pressed against his own to watch Dean fall apart, ‘scream!’

The bubble of fear was too real to digest logically. Dean tried to keep it in, stubbornness reeling forward not to give Alastair the gratitude of victory. But the trigger threw him into the void of pain and Hell without an opportunity to recover. Dean’s head flailed back with a piercing scream as Alastair sunk the blade and laughed in his skull.

Sam launched back scared, “Dean!.” He pulled backward his hand now coated with blood from his brothers back. Sam rushed to check for a wound by tugging on his shirt. Chuck waved him to stop and rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean felt the weight, but Chuck’s face changed to Alastair’s immediately when he glanced up. A smug smile graced his face and tutted at his apparent lack of knowledge.

“Dean, Dean, Dean, you never learn, do you. You are forever mine. You think that he fixed you? That once you are a demon in hell that Angel can cure you entirely? If that were the case angels would be saving demons over smiting them.”

Alastair walked around and pulled the blade swiftly from his back, drawing another yell from Dean as he collapsed forward. He slid the knife across the wounded skin to mirror the wound onto the left side.

“You are mine Dean Winchester, you made that choice to go to hell, God can’t save you!” the blade plunged into his flesh as Dean’s scream choked off as his mouth filled with blood.

“Chuck what do I do?!” Sam cried and watched as Dean’s back stained in red. He lifted his shirt, seeing two large lines cut across his shoulder blades. Sam faltered in shock when large black lines wrapped around and up Dean’s exposed forearms. They seemed to be moving like created from magic, twisting in designs and symbols he could identify in places.

“What is happening!” he yelled scared as Dean’s back arched into another piercing scream, shattering the last window as the black marks bubbled across his skin. Blood dripped freely from his lips. Sam could smell the charred skin smoking, making him feel sick and horrified something more was at work. Chuck’s hand kept Dean in place, eyes bright white, before a burst of energy pulsed outward knocking Sam into the far wall.

It was quiet when Sam opened his eyes, head pounding from hitting the wall, but the sight of the pitch black wings frighten him still. They bellowed fluidly like each feather was made of and surrounded by black smoke, small twitches resonate through Dean’s shaking form. They stretch to the ceiling and disappear through, moving softly as Dean’s forehead rested on Cas' stomach, legs pulled under his frame. Sam could see the obsidian burned tattoos on his forearms, unaware they littered his legs as well. Sam motioned forward hesitantly.

“Sam stay there,” Chuck’s voice commanded surprisingly soft as the bigger brother froze mid-crawl. Dean lifted his head slowly, eyes staring straight ahead. The movement made the wings flair out as if he was about to take flight. Alastair chuckled darkly at his favorite toy.

'You are beautiful like this.' He circled, hand moving through the wings, tentacles of black smoke swirl around his fingers, before taking on the feather shape again.

'He is using you like everyone does, even God couldn’t care about you.'

Sam watched the wings move, and took in a deep, shaky breath as they regain their shape. The breath drew attention his way, and he was met with the piercing demonic onyx eyes of his older brother, shocking him momentarily before he reached for the demon blade.

“Chuck, what’s happening,” Sam barked, voice shaking in concern. Chuck’s eyes were only on Dean’s, hand still on his shoulder squeezing tight. Dean’s focus went back on Cas, and his wings instantly folded downward in helplessness. Chuck’s voice echoed loudly through the quiet room.

“Dean, look at me,” Dean turned his head immediately and finally saw Chuck. Alastair's chuckle finally faded in the distance, and the hunter's green eyes contained all but the barest hint of black now.

“You are ok,” Chuck reassured. Sam watched his brother's face wrinkle in confusion then fall to stare down at his tattooed arms. The wings flickered twice and disappeared completely.

“Who are you?” Dean’s raw voice whispered out, “what did you do to me?” Chuck smiled lovingly and petted the back of his head removing all the blood from Dean's body.

“I am God,” he answered simply moving his hand to cup the side of Castiel’s cheek disappearing the dots of blood that littered his handsome complexion, “and I have given you an Angelic gift at a price.”

A bright blue light pulsed under his hand as Castiel’s eyes shot open with a dramatic inhale of air. The light sunk into his friend's beautiful eyes, enhancing the blue Dean found himself lost in immediately. Skin torn by the Angel blade, deep through to his heart sewed closed, and the warm color of life pushed away his pale, ashen skin. Dean remained frozen in place as Cas came back to life, choking down the need to touch the only person other than Sam he honestly loved.

Cas sat up coughing up bits of blood, hand wiping away at his lips before his eyes met Chuck’s. “Father?” he breathed out in awe, eyes widened with tears, he rolled forward to kiss the hem of Chuck’s shirt.

“Oh dear, sit up,” Chuck’s voice was commanding but filled the room with warmth. He beckoned Sam over, “there is little time.”

With a wave of his hand the room was cleaned up, a roaring fire the only source of light, flickering reds and golds across their faces. Dean remained on the floor, legs folded, heels dug in under his weight, hands squeezing his thighs feeling overwhelmed. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he wished he had the pain to distract his thoughts, but Cas’ hand slid over top of his bringing his mind away from such destructive thoughts

“Hello Dean,” the intense stare softened slightly at the words as he drew his thumb across the top of his hand. Dean wiped his nose with his free hand and smiled at the simple words.

“Hey Cas,” he replied turning his hand around to grasp Cas’ tighter. Sam’s large frame plopped onto the repaired couch, the demon knife twirling in his hands against his left knee. Dean motioned backward to lean his back on the sofa, forcing Sam’s legs to press up against his shoulder. The small touches calmed Dean, and he breathed out contently when Cas shuffled over next to him still holding his hand.

All three stared at God, who sat down on the ratty chair looking comfortable in the once prophet Chuck’s body. “Is Chuck alive?” Sam blurted out making Dean elbow his leg, “What?” he stared at Dean in annoyance, “It’s a valid question, he’s gotta be a vessel or something right?”

God closed his eyes for a moment, forehead sinking into wrinkles, hands clenching momentarily on his knees. He looked weary as if he just came from battle or a parent in need of a break. Dean felt a small part of him feeling sorry for him, well God that is. It must be hard being the father to a bunch of dick angels, Dean thought darkly, and Chuck’s eyes glanced sternly at Dean as if he heard the thought. “Yes, I won't be here long.”

Cas tensed at the words, and Dean squeezed his hand in comfort. Sam nodded in understanding, “What happened to Dean?” he leaned forward confidently, knife still was drawn. Leave it to Sam to get right to the point. Dean’s eyes played back a forth between the two.

God chuckled at the direct question, “I can not tell you much.” He leaned back on his knees and folded his fingers together. “It is prophesied that the Righteous Man will start and end the Apocalypse. He will need a shield and a sword for the battle, and he will be more efficacious than anything a man can achieve alone.”

Dean furrowed his brow in thought; the dark black tattoos caught his eye. He ran a finger up the pattern. Alastair’s voice crept in, whispering softly in the furthest parts of his mind. Dean quickly willed him away; he couldn’t handle the intrusion, the reminders of his failures. That was what Alastair did best in hell, cutting into him, making him scream while whispering all he hated about himself. Hands touched his face and shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see Cas starring concerned back.

Sam’s warm hand squeezed his shoulder, “Dean?” The simple question of his name melted Alastair's voice away. Attention moved quickly to God’s, “What am I?”

God’s gaze hardened through the tired eyes of their friend Chuck, “You are the perfect hybrid of Heaven, Earth, and Hell. All acquired by an act of Free Will Dean Winchester.” He paused and looked skyward as if he was leaving. Sam stood up in anger, “What does that even mean? His eyes were black!”

Dean winced at the words. He hadn’t realized his soul was tainted with that of a demon, and now that he thought about it, he could feel it in his veins. Something dark swirling around like a poison, midnight black smoke touching every cell in his body.

“My grace, you activated it?” Cas’ words ask out ignoring Sam’s defensive position on his Father. Chuck’s aura twinkled in mischief as he nodded. “I must go, good luck on your journey Dean. I am hoping to see this beautiful planet remain for a few million or more years,” and with a bright flash of light, Chuck’s slumped form stayed in the chair.

They lingered quietly for a moment as the word of God settled in their thoughts. Sam checked on Chuck and decided to move him to the bedroom to sleep off God having used his body. The thought was disturbing in itself, and the younger Winchester was extremely frustrated while he moved about the house. Cas was pacing the room as well, trench coat, tie, and jacket removed on the chair. Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey from the bar gulping it down before making another.

“So, I am a demon hybrid piece of shit,” he spoke out in resignation. Cas nodded still pacing but accepted the drink handed his way by Dean. The human act should have sent up a red flag or at least a raised eyebrow, but Dean was tired.

“What's with activating Cas' grace? I don’t get it,” Sam’s voice came into the room. “I saw your wings man; they were something else.”

The thought curled Dean’s lip back in disgust. Great. Now he was a freak. As if they didn’t have enough problems on their plate now they have to figure him out. He finished his drink in one hard swallow.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” Dean shuffled past both men and headed for the spare bedroom. He was angry but didn’t want to take it out on them; sleep was the best thing he could do. He pulled the stained shirt off throwing it near the wall. The room itself was cozy, furniture large in an ornate design suggesting it was handmade. He turned on the bed stand lamp, illuminating a warm orange glow across his skin, dancing over the black tattoos. He stared at them again, the flesh still warm to the touch but now painless. His hands fumble with his belt, pants falling to pool around his ankles. The same black markings trail up his ankles and thighs; the highest peak hit his hip bone on his left leg. He chuckled darkly at the anti-possession tattoo on his chest that contained a black line through it.

“Makes sense to keep demons out, but kinda obsolete when you are one,” he spoke aloud to himself. Demon. Alastair’s words crept in from earlier.

“Dean?” Sam’s meek voice spoke from the doorway. Dean’s back was to him, soft gray underwear resting on his hips, but his hands are trembling, eyes closed tight. Sam’s chest tightened at the vulnerable scene, the planes of Dean’s back rippled forward in resignation and defeat in a way his brother rarely allowed to be seen. Sam almost wished to see the smoke filled wings again. He walked up behind Dean and touched his arm causing Dean to jump back in surprise, wings flickered into view for a second, and Sam just stared in awe.

Dean growled and plopped on the bed. “Dammit Sam,” Dean mumbled, rolling his body back to stare at the ceiling. Sam gawked at the space the wings had flickered into view and shook his head-- not the time to get textbook on Dean.

“Look, Dean, we will head to Bobby’s tomorrow ok?” the, 'so you can lock me up because if you remember I am a demon blood addict who freed Lucifer,' was on the tip of Sam’s tongue, but Dean had enough on his plate at this very moment. “I’ll sleep on the couch, get some sleep, we have a long drive in the morning.”

His brother pat his leg and headed out the door where Cas was now standing. Cas stood silently observing the deep breaths, and the rise and fall of Dean’s chest. He entered slowly, kicking his shoes off. Dean cracked an eye his way and instantly smiled.

“Hey,” Dean sat up and motioned Cas over, pulling his forearm and body into a crushing hug. He would never have dared to do this before, but he needed Cas like water. Cas’ fingers combed through his short hair, rubbing small circles on the back of his neck causing a sigh to escape Dean's lips. He buried his face into his Angel’s stomach, arms squeezing tight and reassuringly.

They stayed in the position for a moment longer before Cas drew away, hands cradling his face. The pad of his thumb rubbed against his lip, up his cheekbone, and pressed softly under his jaw. Cas’ eyes were sad watching Dean submit to his gentle touches. He was unsure what they were to do with all this information, but he knew he had things to work on before he explained the grace piece within Dean. Cas pushed him back towards the headboard and pulled the covers up. Dean let himself be manhandled, and tucked in, eyes heavy with sleep. Cas unbuttoned his stained white dress shirt, throwing it aside as Dean’s eyes close, a sigh on his lips. He removed the belt and pants and slid into bed careful not to wake him.

For a moment, he just watched Dean sleep; forehead relaxed, arms tucked under his pillow. A new wave of drowsiness washed over Cas as well. Knowing his Father had expected his death hurt more than anything else but there was meaning behind all that God did. Cas was old. Timeless even. And though he wished he knew all that was supposed to happen on Earth he was aware that the story of life was to watch it unfold. He rested his head down on the pillow beside Dean and slept.


	3. Morning After

Dean had been awake for a few hours now, the light of the morning sun kissing his shoulders as he sat on the front porch stairs. It was early still, but the house would be rising in a few minutes. He had been rolling the idea of running away, putting as much distance between whatever he was and his family before they got hurt. Cas died for him yesterday and stirring awake this morning with a warm arm just barely touching the side of his-- scared him. Angels did not sleep, but here Cas was, laying on his back, head tilted into the pillow, pink lips parted ever so slightly. It was strange seeing him look so vulnerable and peaceful, especially after the events of yesterday. He watched him sleep for a few moments before his words of ‘being a creep’ echoed in his head and he walked out to get a shower.

He sipped his coffee, little billows of steam hitting his nose, making him sigh. Dean just wanted to know what he needed to do. Simple orders, straight to point, do this and this will happen, for once in his goddamned life simple was needed. The front door cracked open, and Sam’s long legs walked out.

“Hey,” he greeted plopping down on Dean’s left. Sam ran his fingers through his mussed hair and leaned back on his palms, legs stretched out in front. “You weren’t thinking about leaving were you?”

Ever the observer his brother was. Dean chose to shrug instead, the silence always comfortable between them. Sam knew Dean wasn’t leaving now if he was going to he would have already gone. Dean never wanted this life for Sam, and remembering the cold dead body of his brother sent chills down his spine alongside the one now of Cas. It alarmed him, not knowing why Hell was creeping back into his life, but never once had he regretted his decision to go there for Sam.

“I saw Alastair yesterday,” Dean blurted out, eyes forward staring into nothing. Sam’s entire body stiffened at the sentence but was able to stay quiet. “Clear as day; I could feel him stabbing me, the brush of his fingers, the smoothness of his voice.” A shudder interrupted from him as he collected his thoughts, eyes closed, head pitched forward.

Sam wanted to reach out and comfort his brother but knew he would clam up if he sensed it. Dean never liked to talk about any part of Hell, “At one point Dean, it looked like someone ran their fingers through your wings, was that, you know? Him?” Sam asks hesitantly.

Dean nodded in response, but his forehead frowned, “You couldn’t see him?”

“Not at all. The smoke swirled like it was touched but then they reformed into feathers right after.” Sam’s lips quirked up in confusion, “You think he was actually there? Or was it you doing that?”

“I dunno,” Dean responded because honestly, he didn’t know. There was blood from his stab wounds, he could feel his lungs filling with fluids. The pain felt real enough, but if he was honest about it, he didn’t remember much after that second blade plunged into him. As if the black smoke filled his brain and took over. Was it possible that he was hallucinating him?

Dean shook his head, and slapped both his knees, “Let's go, I want to head to Bobby’s a-sap.” He stood, mug in hand, and glanced up at the dark sky one more time. 'God, you better not place too much faith in me, if anyone can fuck this up, it's me.'

The brothers walked back inside to see Chuck and Cas chatting in the kitchen. Dean stared at Cas for a long, inappropriate moment, a bright red mug of coffee held in his lean hands, black slacks wrinkled from sleeping. He was out of his element but also somehow not as he leaned against the counter, one hand behind him. Dean noticed it was tugging his undershirt tight in the front and without care drank in the image before him he caught the amused mess of his hair. Damn. Cas had amazing bed head this morning. Sam coughed obnoxiously from his side, and Dean glared over to see a raised eyebrow and grin. “Bitch” he mouthed as they walked into the kitchen.

Cas’ smile widened when the brothers walk in, perfectly in sync. He was always amazed how similar they were in instances like this. Shoulders square, chest out, arms moving side to side as if they were marching with a purpose, and no matter what, their steps always mirrored one another. Dean’s smile greeted his first, as well as a hand ruffling his hair.

“You look hilarious with bed hair Cas,” Dean couldn’t help but want to touch him again, but he settled for standing right by his side. He turned to Chuck with a simple nod, who looked like he was sporting a hangover from hell, “Chuck.”

“Morning Dean, you are all off on your next big mission from God I take it,” Chuck sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean huffed in response.

“Yeah well, what choice do we have here? We are heading to Bobby’s. Will you be ok by yourself?”

Chuck nodded solemnly, and turned to Cas, “God has assured me that I won’t be having any more visions. No offense to him, but I doubt that very much, especially when I had one of Sam first thing this morning.” All three men looked at one another surprise; Sam was the first to ask, “Well what was it?”

“It was hard to see, it was a dark room, but there was blood everywhere, demon blood and bodies littered the floor. You were covered in it, eyes black as night, but you were in control, or... well someone was controlling you, not sure to be honest,” Chuck answered and took a quick sip of his coffee. “I believe you were the one who killed all those demons, but I am not certain how. You seemed unharmed from the fight.”

Dean sagged his shoulders, hands planted on the counter next to Cas, “Christ Sam, you can’t be on that demon blood after what happened to Lilith.” Sam nodded in agreement, startled and a little disturbed about the vision.

“Yeah, I know Dean, I gotta get into the panic room or something, detox, I can’t...be that monster again,” Sam walked briskly from the room leaving the three in a moments silence. Cas set the mug down on the counter and rolled his shoulders, arms reaching for the ceiling. Dean’s was starring, and he knew it-- but after seeing Cas dead in his arms, he couldn't help but steal any moments he could. Cas must have felt his gaze because he glanced up and chuckled softly. Before he walked out, his fingers brushed Dean's forearm, and it took every ounce of control not to chase the Angel down. Chuck sighed loudly, eyes fixed on Dean like a scolding parent.

“What?” Dean knew he was telling more with that one word and defensive stance then he wanted to, but Chuck seemed unaffected and sipped his coffee again.

“I understand how you feel about Castiel,” Chuck said glancing out the small kitchen window. “I write about you and Sam enough to know that you will be okay. So, just don't mess it up by overthinking it.”

Dean’s glared hard at the ground, the flush of embarrassment on his neck and ears. Chuck continued, grabbing Dean’s bicep tightly with his free hand, “you can not afford to mess it up, or you will doom us all.”

“Okay,” he managed to say, the odd demanding presence of Chuck made him wonder if God left a residue of himself in the scrawny man. The front door opened and closed loudly signally Sam’s exit to pack the car, Dean took the opportunity to leave, “Take care of yourself, Chuck, be safe.”

Since he had taken on more human traits than he liked, Cas was in the bedroom gathering up a handful of items Chuck said he could borrow. Being fallen was taboo and never discussed in Heaven, so he had nothing to go on, but it all fit the bill. Sleep had hit him so hard last night, and the grime on his teeth upon waking up was not pleasant. The clothes he had on felt grimy from sleeping, which in itself was an odd experience. He pulled on a pair of jeans, folding the dirty slacks into the duffle bag resting on the bed. Cas didn’t dream at all while he slept, and like Dean seemed only to need around four hours. What was odder was Dean’s lack of freaking out over him falling asleep beside him in the first place. He wasn't sure what was going on between them, but if what Chuck and he had discussed earlier was true, Dean was going to need him more than ever. Maybe he would be able to show how much he loved him without losing what they had.

He pulled his shirt off and opened the closet full of t-shirts when Dean stumbled in with a ‘Cas’ on his lips. Dean stopped short when he saw the stretch of tan skin in front of him. Never had he saw Cas without clothes on, but what actually caught him off guard were the two black wings tattooed from his shoulder blades down to his tailbone, some feathers even pulled over his biceps and around his side. The small gasp brought blue eyes to him, “Dean?”

He couldn’t move, he wanted to, but everything felt warm as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. A humming white noise filled his ears as the span of wings seem to burn into his conscious. He could feel the heat, feel the beat of wings against hurting skin, a hand gripped tight on his shoulder as he flew up. A breath of air brushed on his face, and he opened to see a sea of blue. Always blue.

“Dean,” a firm, deep voice, a command, yet his name all the same, “you with me?”

Dean’s not sure if he could answer, this Angel saved him from Hell, became his friend regardless of his stubborn attitude, and put up with his sins and bad habits. Cas always calmed him the moment he entered a room. He felt like he could finally breathe just standing beside him, and even when Heaven tried with every ounce of strength they had to break Cas, they didn’t ever actually pull him away from Dean. Not permanently. He always came back.

Two hands cupped his cheeks forcing his head up, his knees throbbed in fresh pain from hitting the floor. “What is happening to me Cas?” he managed to say softer than he wanted. Cas pressed his forehead against Dean’s. Braving to brush his lips against his cheek and sigh.

“I don’t know, but I am here for you,” Cas answered, the moment the words left his mouth Dean felt a chill run down his spine. The fires of hell burned out in his mind forcing his heart to slow down to Cas’. All was dull for a moment then it was gone. Dean took in a few deep breaths, glancing up to see Cas’ face hovering close to his. Concern was meeting his brow in a downward furrow; head tilted ever so slightly to the right.

“Whoa!” Dean started back shocked as two-midnight black wings flapped softly behind Castiel. Sheens of dark navy blue and highlights of silver caught the light, each feather smooth like water. They reached back toward the closet and passed into the wall. Cas watched carefully at Dean with layered concern. With the smallest shake of his shoulders, his wings disappeared.

“Wings,” Dean mumbled out, as Cas sat back on his heels observing the reactions to them. “I saw your wings man,” Dean was oddly smiling, excitement bubbling up in his chest, “Turn around.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at the request but stayed quiet as Dean decided to hop up and look at Cas' bareback. A small ‘dude’ left his lips as palms smoothed over the black feathers tattooed on his back.

“Your wings, are on your back. Tattooed I mean,” Dean was still touching each feather, the detail so similar to what he saw in person, he almost thought he could feel the texture of the wing on the skin. Cas glanced back to see the marks on his top shoulder and hummed in approval. He pulled himself up to get a better view in the mirror.

"It seems I am a fallen angel. I didn't hear heaven last night-- and it continued to be quiet this morning, so I suspected.”

Dean remained on his knees watching the ripple of Cas’ muscles move the tattoos while he shifted side to side. Cas lamented, and grabbed a clean shirt, “God didn’t want me connected to my brothers and sisters anymore, there must be a reason for it and this lack of power I have. We need to get to Bobby’s and research.”

Dean looked up from the floor, watching Cas pull the shirt over his head. The dark wash jeans were a little small for him being Chuck’s, but he could pull off the tighter look more then Dean could. He’s lost in thought for a moment before a finger tucked under his jaw and lifted it up to see an amused grin. “Come on Dean.”

He wanted to kiss him, he had wanted to kiss him for what felt like forever, but he won’t. Not yet at least, “yeah okay.” Dean took the outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

“You get shotgun Cas,” he winked, a silly smile pinned to his face. Dean grabbed the duffle and slipped an arm around his friend’s shoulders. Cas regarded his movements carefully, the quick change in the mood not missed by the Angel.

“Sam can have shotgun Dean, I'll meet you there,” and with a flap of feathers, Cas was gone.


	4. Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mini insert of Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael

Lucifer sat upon the old warehouse roof, legs dangling off the edge as he looked towards the sleepy small town. A yellow light flashed across his skin; on and off, as it blinked at a crossroads of two quiet roads. Michael chuckled as he stood tall upon the roof. Head tilted softly to the right.

“This planet is considerably more beautiful than last time I saw it, dear brother.”

“It’s filled with annoying creatures,” Raphael's voice echoed behind them, resonating deep from the towering vessel. Michael surprised them both with a rich laugh before taking in his brother's presence.

“You are annoying,” Michael’s smile widened on the younger John Winchester’s face, full of love for his siblings, no matter the darkness of his past storming in his gaze. Finally, after so many years separated, his brothers were finally back together. He missed this, the light banter between them and the weight of being a soldier for an absent father no longer holding them down.

“Where’s Gabriel? Did he not feel my presence to this world?” Lucifer asked. He waved his hand in a lazy arc blowing out all the lights along the empty street. Glass shards exploded in the air, littering the road, paving it further in darkness.

Raphael shook his head in disappointment, “I am not sure family was ever enough to lure him from hiding Lucifer.” Michael took in a deep breath and turned his face up towards the night sky. Heaven was their home, had been for thousands of years, but they wanted more. He was tired of leading and once that flair of free will entered his bloodstream, he knew there was more out there. Raphael was hesitant to join him at first, but he had years to show him this new path of free will.

Gabriel always had his own type of free will, and it was something Michael admired more than he’d admit out loud. Thought dead for a long time they caught wind of him living as a pagan god called Loki at one point in time. They watched him for years while they planned Lucifer’s escape, but never did Michael want to push his younger brother into coming back. It was his choice after all, and he understood the importance of that now.

Lucifer waved his right hand in another lazy arc as a cloud of smoke billowed from the main town hall. Fire alarms howled into the night as humans run out in a fit of panic at the noise. They watch in silence as the city rusheed to put out the flames, working together like ants, shooting water into the bright open flames.

“Bored,” Lucifer said stretching his legs outright, wings flared out to take flight. “I want Gabriel with us before we rid the world of humans.”

“Agreed,” Raphael snarled, lip pulling up in disgust as he closes his eyes, a roll of thunder echoes through the land as screams fill the air. Michael didn't but his voice was absent to object.

“Let’s plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will fill in small moments like this every once in awhile, hope that is okay! They are short because I don't want to take away from Dean since this is his story. The next few chapters will be mostly filled with research, and discovery, and setting us up for our first confrontation with the Archangels. Hope you are enjoying this! Comments with ideas/concerns/praise would make my day. Thank you!


	5. Nightmares

Dean was not in a good mood, and Sam knew it all too well. The drive to Bobby’s was tense, Dean’s wall of 'I don’t want to talk about it' thick between them. So they drove the miles in silence, only stopping to grab food and a hotel before pulling into Bobby’s scrapyard.

“Bobby!” Sam pulled the older man into his tall frame the moment he crossed the door, “Good to see you!”

“You look like shit boy,” Bobby’s gruff voice grunted from the squeeze, “Got the room set up, you going right down there?”

Sam nodded, chin downcast in shame, “Yeah, it's better to get it over with.” He honestly couldn’t ignore the thirst he had for his personal drug of choice anymore. Dean watched over him that night at the hotel as he slept, too scared his little brother would run out the door to hunt a demon to kill. Even if Dean wouldn’t tell him what had him upset, he was grateful he would always have him, no matter if he was hurting. His skin itched from the withdraw already, eyes bloodshot, and he knew he was in for a long few days as the demon blood left his system.

“Well go on then, take a shower, piss, shit, and do whatever else you must before he locks you down there,” Bobby nodded up the stairs, “Go on,” Sam whispered his thanks, hauled upstairs.

Dean had made his way right into a bottle of Jack; legs crossed as he leaned on the old desk surrounded by Angel lore that Bobby had been reviewing before they arrived. He grabbed the closest book, pages worn around the edges. A photo inside was of Michael expelling Lucifer to Hell. The image brought a round of shivers, Michael with his overly bright halo, wings pure gold, eyes a flamed in righteousness, but what made the pit in his stomach drop was the look of sadness on Lucifer's face. He seemed so shocked of the betrayal.

That was what confused Dean the most, why did God oppose his Angel’s having free will? Lucifer was depicted in older texts as “The Accuser,” or more of a judge figure. Dean didn’t blame Lucifer for fighting for what he thought when he was surrounded by free will on a constant basis, even if it was because he thought Angel’s superior. No wonder it rubbed off, but it didn’t explain why God ordered Michael to send him to Hell in the first place.

“Buy your own damn whiskey ya idjit, hand it over,” Dean glanced at Bobby’s outstretched hand in front of him, face set in a deep frown, and handed the bottle over with a firm close of the book to glare childishly back at his father figure. Bobby snatched the bottle before placing it on the shelf with the others. He was mumbling under his breath, but Dean couldn't make out what he was saying, although ‘idjit’ did hit his ears a few more times. Bobby plopped on the old worn couch.

“You just missed Cas, he will be back, though,” Bobby said hands crossed in his lap, he closed his eyes looking tired, and if Dean was honest, looked years older. A flare of affection hit him for the old man, but he kept it to himself, Bobby knew they loved him.

“That’s nice,” he managed to say standing up to add the book to the growing pile on the desk. “How’s research going?” Bobby shrugged in answer fixing him with the parent look. “What?” Dean asked like he is being scolded already.

“Nothing you don’t know,” Bobby shook his head, fixing both hands on his knees as he leaned forward, “Cas actually found something interesting, well, better than what I came up with.” He took in a deep breath, and adjusted his hat, “Apparently you are the only human soul ever rescued from Hell by Angels.”

That was interesting. Dean never thought he was special, but this was big news, why him then? He asked the last question out loud, Bobby shrugged again, “Not sure, Cas was wondering the same thing, said something about orders from higher up, but he’s not sold it was God who gave them.”

Dean nodded, “God said something about it being my choice to go to hell that made all the difference. At least with the prophecy that is.” They glanced at each other for a moment as Dean paced, “I mean, maybe I had to go to Hell, to you know to...” Become a demon.

Bobby agreed sadly, “Maybe, but now a hundred more questions come up. Like how that is even possible since you are around more holy water and devils traps than any other human soul around here.”

“I don’t know Bobby, I don’t know anything actually,” he was getting mad again, and he tried to keep from yelling at Bobby. It wasn’t his fault, and he was here to help them figure it out. Sam had mentioned him being containing grace. Cas did ask God about his grace being activated which didn’t produce an answer from the man upstairs, but it was something for him to hold onto and ask Cas about. A spark of hope blossomed that maybe he wasn’t doomed to become the monster he was in Hell.

Dean’s hand itched for a drink, and with a glance at Bobby, he walked over to the bar to pour them both a glass. “Here,” he handed the tumbler over and lamented. “What about the tattoo’s anything on those?” Dean asked changing the subject, he plopped down in the desk chair, picking up another book.

“A few things I looked into suggestions that they are of protection, but that was all I found that seemed to fit,” Bobby glanced at the dark rings and spiral markings up Dean’s forearms. “When did they appear?”

Dean shook his head, “I don’t know exactly, I’m a little hazy after Alastair put that knife in my back, but it felt like God marked me, is that possible?” The pen in Bobby’s hand scratched the notes on a loose piece of paper by his side, “Not sure son, maybe, we will figure it out.”

“Well, I haven’t slept in two days because I had to watch Sammy through the night,” Dean shot the whiskey down in one gulp fixing Bobby with a raised brow. “Let him take his time, have him eat or something, but can you wake me up when he’s ready?”

“Sure thing Dean, the guest room is set up for you,” and with that Dean thanked him, grabbed his bag from the floor and made his way upstairs. He wasn’t tired, well maybe a little, but he was still frustrated about everything and needed some space. He hadn’t mentioned it, but his anti-possession tattoo which had a black line through it had itched so bad last night he cut through it with a knife. It was this constant tug and pull that had him wary as if his body was fighting itself, which is kind of not surprising with recent development.

He plopped down on the bed, eyes heavy with sleep even though his brain was in overdrive. What if the 'angel' side of him fought and won the demon side of him? He’s a walking oxymoron, and it pissed him off. All he has ever understood was that he was Dean. Not some monster, or Righteous man, just Dean Winchester-- who at times feels like he was 70 years old, and maybe drank too much or consumed one too many cheeseburgers, but at the end of the day he saved people and hunted things.

The ceiling had a new crack in it, and he mentally told himself to fix it tomorrow for Bobby. Sleep must have come because he was now sitting in a chair surrounded by darkness. It’s silent except for a dripping noise to his left, steady, hitting the concrete floor in little splashes. He remained quiet and tugged at his tied wrists secured behind his back. A whimper comes from the floor before a heavy steel door opens illuminating the room in white light. His eyes widen at Sam by his feet, hogtied, face down on the floor, bruised and beaten, and he becomes frantic to get out of the binds.

Applause echoed around him, and he glanced up to see Meg in all her glory, “Well you’re finally awake princess, thought I hit you over the head too hard there.” She chuckled as she made her way over to them pausing on his left as his panic ten folds. Cas dangled from his wrists, lips blue, blood dripping to the floor from a gash on his face. Meg spun his body, a laugh in her throat. No. He can’t see him dead again.

“No!” he screamed as his wings flare out, hands breaking the binds in one tug. Meg doesn’t seem worried and even lifted an eyebrow at him, “Shut up Dean, sit down.” Dean’s heart rate quickened, but he sat obediently. Rage coursed through his body causing small tremors in his legs, he tried but couldn't speak. Meg’s demand was fresh on his mind. Sam tried to scoot away from Dean looking scared, and now Dean was even more confused.

“Oh my god, you ARE a precious princess,” Meg taunted from Sam’s side, “Look at your baby brother all scared of one look from you.” Dean watched Sam huddled close to Meg eyes wide in fright. “Well he did have to see you kill your Angel with your bare hands so...” she let the end of the sentence hang in the air, a look of pure joy on her round beautiful face. Did he kill Cas? He wouldn’t; she’s lying.

“Not lying there Dean-o, you killed him, you killed him, you killed him!” she danced around the room repeating the line over and over.

His chest hurt, heart, thumping against his ribs as the blood coursed faster through his veins with each panicked breath. He did kill him; he could see the blood on his hands-- oh god he killed him. Killed Cas, “No, not again, stop this please, wake up, this is a dream, wake up!”

“Dean wake up,” his eyes fly open to see Sam inches from his face, free from blood and bruises, he was reaching forward to pull him into a hug not caring if it was sappy. Dean felt relief snuff out his fear-- stupid nightmare. He was all right. Sam chuckled but squeezed him hard right back. “You okay?” Dean asked.

Sam laughed at that, “Well yeah, I am heading downstairs, Bobby said to wake you."

Confusion made its way onto Dean’s face, “Right, panic room...” Sam shrugged and settled on the edge of the bed as Dean sat up to lean his back against the headboard. “What were you dreaming about?”

Sam asked looking tired. They were all too familiar with nightmares so Dean raised his eyebrow in the silent look that screamed 'you know idiot.' An itch burned on his pectoral again, and his hand started scratching at the tattoo before Sam ripped his hand away. “Dean stop, you’re bleeding,” Sam glanced at the tattoo dotted in crimson.

“Is Cas back?” he asked pressing his palm into the wound to stop the bleeding. Sam shook his head no. Even at six foot, four Sam could still manage to warp into his little five-year-old Sammy. He looked worse for wear when he looked at him, and he’s saddened that the demon blood was affecting him so much. If only a touch would heal him, make it better. He felt a warmth spread through his limbs, heavy as if his blood slowed down in each vein and vessel. On instinct, his hand stretched out to graze his fingertips on his brother's shoulder as the warmth left his fingers in a pulse of energy.

Sam stiffened at the touch, eyes blown in shock staring at his brother, before they roll back in his head, body going completely slack and fell forward. Dean’s out of the bed in seconds grabbing both shoulders before he crashed to the floor. “Sam? Sam!” he shook his arms, hoping he would wake, his fingers check for a pulse and it wasn't there. He laid his body on the ground and screamed, “Bobby!” Loud footsteps echo through the house as the door bursts open.

A loud laugh came from the doorway as Meg saw his distressed state. “Wow, you are so pathetic! How did Alastair ever put up with you?” she crossed over and with a snap of her fingers Sam’s body was gone.

“You’re back in your own personal hell, tucked right inside this pretty little head of yours,” she flicked his forehead. “Dean, really, how can you escape yourself? Honestly, I thought you were smarter, but maybe Sam did get all the brains." She paused in thought as her hand tugged the back of his head back to bare his neck. She wrapped the other hand around his throat as she straddled his lap, and leaned into his ear.

“You thought you were saved, but you were wrong. This little piece of you that you hid away will now eat you, alive. No grace can save you Dean Winchester. Once a demon, always a demon. You remember that when the blackness inside you destroys your delectable soul, and accept that one day, you will wake up and be everything you were meant to be before you were taken from us.”

Dean’s hands pull at the bruising choke hold around his throat while Meg laughed in his face, smile so bright it flashed her real face-- distorted and unbelievably evil with twisted horns holding a blue flame. Darkness took over his vision from lack of oxygen as she leaned down on him, using her full strength to strangle his last breath. He willed it to come, just one more breath please, he prayed to whoever would listen before the weight was cut off by a piercing scream, eyes illuminated in white.

Enormous shadows of wings spanned the walls, and the angry eyes of Castiel flashed bright white to pure blue before she slumped off his legs to the floor. “Cas?” he croaked, alarmed this was still a nightmare. Cas was silent for a moment, breaths coming in and out frantically as if he had run a mile. He was wearing jeans with holes in the knees, and a ratty looking off white t-shirt that looked suspiciously like Dean’s. He smiled softly at the image of his disheveled Angel before he lost consciousness.

His eyes are too heavy to open, so he used his other senses to fill for them. The softness of the bed told him he was in the spare bedroom, the rumble of the fan against the wall confirming it. A pleasant warmth heated his side from the sun pooling in from the window marking it late afternoon.

“‘I’ll wake him,” a voice said muffled from the hallway, Dean thought it Sam but was unsure. A hand pressed lightly on his shoulder a moment later. “Dean, wake up,” yes definitely Sam.

He opened his eyes a crack before rolling his face into the pillow from the onslaught of light. “Nope still wanna sleep,” he mumbled from the fabric. Sam’s laugh rung out with an accompanied thump of the extra pillow across his back to jostle him fully awake.

“I am heading downstairs, Bobby said to wake you,” Sam responded quietly from the side of the bed. A sudden rush of Deja-vu hits him, and he jumped up falling out of the bed to avoid touching Sam.

He peered over the edge of the bed as Sam fixed him with bitchface number 3 which was 'what the fuck is wrong with you.' Dean flushed and nodded embarrassed getting up from the floor. “Okay, yeah, um,” he smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in his shirt, “let’s lock you up then, you ready?” Sam nodded and exited the room, Dean watching his retreating before he was out of sight. He slumped back on the edge of the bed with a deep breath to cradle this face against his palms. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic, fluffy, happiness because I needed it, and so did Dean. lol

Dean’s head rested heavy in his hands, his beer long forgotten on the table of the kitchen. His shoulders slumped forward, entire upper body resting its weight on the two limbs. He’s tired, and hasn’t slept now for three days, and every time he tried, Sam’s screams brought another round of guilt and nightmares. Bobby leaned against the counter, expression like he was in deep thought, but his eyes are tired as well, a book rested in his hand attempting to research. Another scream echoed through the old house, Sam’s voice cracking at the end from overuse, and Dean can’t take anymore, its been five hours of constant screaming, and its getting worse, so bad he had to tie Sam’s arms and legs down to stop him from hurting himself a few hours ago. It’s an image he doesn’t want to think about. A flutter of wings stirs his head up, while Bobby cried a, “God dammit boy.”

“My apologies,” Cas said, head tilting down ever so slightly. Sam’s screams continued to ring up the basement stairs, and tears are tugging at Dean’s eyes before he stopped them. He dropped his head to rest his forehead on the table, taking shallow breaths to calm himself. The last thing he needed was to go all demon out and trigger something he won’t want to remember.

Cas’ removed his jacket, a dark green one Dean use to wear when he was out of school and stayed at Bobby’s. It fit him perfectly as did most of an entire box of clothes that had made its way into the other room where Bobby put him up. Cas was grateful for the items, not realizing he would have to change so many times in one day, Chuck’s clothes only got him so far. Everything was a mess, which further frustrated Cas because he was use to order. He reached into his bag and pulled out an old white tome with a bronze cross painted on the cover.

“I found what I was looking for,” he addressed Bobby placing the book on the kitchen table. “Don’t ask how I got it, you wouldn’t like it.” Cas had been gone for hours now, and Dean was still grumpy about it, and only to bring back a book? So he stayed how he was, thinking about Sam, and about his life now. God they were all kinds of fucked up.

“As long as you didn’t sell your soul for it I could care less at this point,” Bobby responded throwing the book in hand on the counter to read the new one.

The chair next to him pulled out as Cas slid into the chair. Their legs bump into one another briefly causing Dean’s entire body to relax. Cas always did this to him, and before he registered the press of lean fingers into his hair he was out cold.

\--

Dean jumped awake to a quiet house. He was laid out on the couch in the living room, and glanced quickly to the sleeping Cas curled up into himself like a house cat at his feet, head pressed into the armrest, taking up barely one cushion. His book was on the floor, pages open as if it fell from his grasp when sleep took over. Dean looked back at Cas fondly, damn, he had taken over the entire couch, a warm blanket tucked in around his waist and everything. He was warmed with embarrassment at the thought of Cas carrying him out here in the first place.

At the thought, Cas shivered, and pressed his nose into the couch, arms pulling his legs up closer to his chest as if he could possibly take up any less room on the large couch. Dean felt a little guilty watching his friend sleep yet again, he could kinda understand why Cas always did it with him, it brought peace to the room, and trust between them with just the simple act. His hand reached out to untuck the wool blanket and pulled it up towards Cas to cover his shoulders and body. It brought out a sigh of relief for a second before Dean was pinned to the couch, both arms trapped under the strong grip, and an Angel blade pressed into his throat.

“Cas holy shit! It’s me!” Cas’ face was a few inches from his, breaths coming in and out quickly from the burst of adrenaline. His blue eyes widen at seeing Dean and he released his bruising grip on Dean’s wrists, and drops the blade on the floor.  

“Dean? I’m sorry, you startled me,” Dean laughed nervously at that. Cas was fricken scary this up close, and Dean was a little ashamed to say it, but it was kinda hot. Cas’ weight still remained on top of him, legs pressed on either side of his hips as he rubbed his hands into his eyes still tired. Cas never fully understood personal space between people, especially Dean, so he let it slide for a minute as Cas regained a little composure. He could make out a faint blush around his ears though and it so cute, and God he was pretty, dark hair stuck up to the left from pressing into the couch, skin clear of imperfections, except for the scruff of beard along his jawline. His gray sweat pants rested so low along his hips, and Dean willed his hands to stay to himself, and just like that, his previous anger over him leaving was gone. Cas always did that too. Just like Sam, he had Dean wrapped around his finger and doesn’t even know it, it was a comfortable feeling though.

Cas shivered again, but fixed an annoyed glance Dean’s way making him smile at the so human expression, “You cold?” he asked, eyes crinkling at the expression on Cas’ face. Only he could go from kitten cute to bamf to adorable in a span of three minutes. Dean was so screwed.

“Yes, I hate this,” he mumbled the last line and Dean felt a pang of guilt at that. It was his fault he was killed in the first place and remade more human than he wanted. He reached up and grabbed Cas’ forearm to tug him out of his lap to lay by his side, and pulled the blanket up and over them both. If Cas could purr Dean would have expected to hear the soft rumble from his friend, secret admirer, partner, lover? hell he wasn’t really sure anymore. He would be happy with anything from Cas to be honest. Cas’ eyes drooped close immediately, face pressed into Dean’s shoulder, arms tucked into himself like before. Aiming to not startle the Angel again, Dean loosened Cas’ left arm carefully and draped it across his chest. Cas pressing in closer as expected and Dean sighed in content. He wasn’t tired, but he could stand to lay here for another hour before Bobby woke up. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon out the window.

His ears listen out for Sam but he was quiet, and he prayed that was because he was sleeping. He reached for the book on the floor Cas was reading and opened it at random. The page was about Angels not surprisingly. Bobby had said that Cas was at a loss when it came to knowledge of fallen Angels, since heaven’s only example was Lucifer and those who ripped out their grace, it was not talked about in Heaven. He assumed he knew this book would answer some of these questions. The page he turned to had a beautiful picture of brown, tan wings spanned fully open from the back of a blonde haired human male vessel. Each Angel apparently had unique wings based off of their true vessels. He remembered the dark navy and black wings of Cas and smiled fondly, before he frowning sadly. His wings, which was strange to think on in general, were made of smoke, black smoke of his demonic side.

He wondered if he could fly like Cas could. It seemed the fallen Angel still retained most of his strength and speed, but that was it, not that he wasn’t grateful, those were the best qualities in his opinion, a weak Cas was not something he wanted to think about. He glanced back down at the sleeping Angel and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. They were going to have to talk about this sooner or later, he wasn’t sure Cas knew friends didn’t snuggle. Dean never thought about love often. He never really had friends, only family, that more often than not left him, and he was use to filling nights with pretty faces and one night stands. It was the conquest that made him do things like that, the thrill of watching his ‘prey’ fall for his charm, it was all part of his hunters mindset, but Cas, Sam, Bobby, they were different. They were family, and he would do anything to protect them.

Dean laid there reading the book for another hour before the heavy footfalls of Bobby reached his ears, and in moments the grump was standing in the hallway, eyebrow raised at the scene in front of him. Dean smiled, not embarrassed one bit, and extracted himself from the tight grip around his waist, and further tucked Cas into the blanket.

“Shut up,” Dean said as he entered the kitchen. Bobby rolled his eyes, but kept his thoughts to himself. “I am going to check on Sam.”

Dean walked down the basement stairs to the panic room. The door was open, Dean feeling too guilty to actually shut it after restraining his brother to the bed. Sam was surprisingly awake and his eyes meet Dean’s with a lopsided tired smile.

“Morning? It is morning right?” Sam’s voice is scratchy from both sleep and hours of screaming. Dean plopped down on the chair with a wet wash cloth and pressed it into his brothers hair line.

“Yeah, just woke up myself,” Dean answered, “How you holding up? Think its over?”

Sam closed his eyes at the cool touch of the cloth, “actually I think so, its the strangest thing, last night I remember it feeling like I was going to die, I felt so scared, then I simply fell asleep.” Dean reached over and unbuckle the arm restraints closest to him.

“Huh,” was all he said before he unbuckled the other arm for his brother. Sam sat up and took the damp cloth to press it fully on his face. The coolness felt amazing when his body still felt on fire but he knew the worse part was over. The urge to kill and shove his face into an open vein no longer throbbed in his head.

“We should tell Bobby that,” he thought about Cas finally returning last night, saving him from his nightmare too. The coincidence not lost on him that both him and Sam fell asleep peacefully with the Angel present last night, but he kept it to himself. Sam stretched upward, and tried to stand but was to weak in the legs.

“Whoa Sammy, come on,” Dean wrapped his arm around his waist and lets Sam rest his arm over his shoulders, and together they walked up the stairs to the kitchen.

Bobby ran over immediately to help Sam into a chair, and pushed a cup of coffee into his hands. “How you doing Sam? It’s over?” he asked sitting at the table as well, coffee mug resting in his wrinkled grip.

Dean opened the fridge to make breakfast, they were going to need it today with another day full of hours of research. Maybe Cas and him could try out his wings and fly. He hadn’t tried to use them, their presence felt along his back, but not visually seeing them messed with his head. The thought was both exciting and scary as hell though. He pulled out the eggs and a large packet of bacon and set them on the counter. The loaf of bread wasn’t stale yet so he pulled that over as well. French toast sounded awesome right about now.

“Yeah Bobby, I feel good, not a hundred percent, but its over,” Sam glanced at his older brother setting up breakfast with a fond smile, domestic life looked good on him, “for good Bobby, I won’t go through that ever again.”

Bobby nodded, “well son, we will have to see how you fare around blood before we fully clear you, comes with the profession after all.” Sam hadn’t thought about that but Bobby was right, he could declare all day he was staying clean but the moment he stabbed a demon would he be able to control the urge?

The smell of cinnamon, butter, and bacon filled the air and a sleepy Castiel slid into the kitchen nose leading the way. “What is that smell,” his stomach rumbled loudly and he stared down at it with a grin, “my stomach wants what ever you are cooking Dean.” He padded over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup of jo and peered over Dean’s shoulder, pressing his chest against his back to see the pile of delicious brown french toast. Dean glanced sideways at the curious man, and took a piece of bacon to offer him. Cas’ eyes go wide at the food and leaned in to bite the piece from Dean’s fingers.

The pornographic noise that came from Cas so close to his ear was not what Dean needed this early and Sam’s burst of laughter confirmed it actually happened. Cas didn’t pay them any mind though, he liked being close to Dean, and pulled out the dishes needed to eat on. Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him and he wondered which bitch face he was wearing at the moment. Damn, he will have to talk about these feelings today won't he, because Sam will corner him about it.

“Alright, almost ready here,” Dean handed the plate full of eggs and bacon over to Bobby, and Bobby accepted them with hungry eyes. He flipped the last french toast onto the plate and walked it over to the table to occupy the last seat. His eyes combing over the smiles of the three most important people in his life as their hands grab the food to fill their plates.

“You’re wearing that weird content look again,” Sam commented between bites of egg, and his eyes glanced up to see his smug look. Dean glances over at Cas’ who was drowning his french toast in syrup, legs tucked under him like he was five years old, then Bobby who’s plate was piled so high its all mixed into one big breakfast concoction.

“Yeah well with the Apocalypse looming over my head, I enjoy moments like this, so shut your cake hole,”  Dean snapped back but it lacked bite to only makes Sam smile fondly back. “Bitch,” Dean said with a mouth full of eggs.

Sam rolled his nose in disgust at the chewed food, but he was happy, actually happy, even though the forces of the world demand them not to be. Yeah he could get on board with what Dean said, he will have to take moments like this because he wasn’t sure how many of them he will have before the world burns around them. Dean’s eyes were on him in that brotherly stare of concern, and he shook his head of thoughts, “Jerk.”

 


	7. Control

Dean was done. This was day fourteen of research and they had came up with nothing they hadn’t already knew. Sam had found an old empty journal in his spare closet upstairs and had insisted, almost as much as Bobby, that Cas fill it with everything he knew about the Apocalypse, Angels, and anything else he thought important. It was strangely endearing watching him tucked into the small chair by the fire, handwriting in perfect scripting multiple languages scratched across the page.

Cas had taken to stealing Dean’s black hoodie from years ago and the memory made him sigh sadly. He hadn’t even believed in God or Angels, and that day when his heart was giving out with the threat of a very human death, which was promised it be fixed, proved that lack of belief further with the chained reaper. If only Castiel had swooped in to fix him, maybe then he would have been more prepared for dealing with Angels.

He walked over toward Cas and his blue eyes dance up with a smile, “Hello Dean, bored I take it with that expression?” Dean chuckled shyly at that, Cas would have his expressions categorized. Sam, who was over on the couch nose deep in a large tome barked a laugh.

“Yeh buddy,” his hand waved the newspaper grasped in his hand, “found a case, wanna take a break Sammy, go on an old fashion salt and burn.” Dean tossed the paper at his brother, “shit never thought I’d say I was happy for a ghost case, we were kinda pathetic back then Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes while he read the article, “Don’t Sammy me, but yeah, sure, its close to here, why not.” Dean looked at Cas, “Coming?”

Cas stretched and laid the journal on the desk, “Sure, I would assume a fallen Angel of the Lord would be of assistance to the famous Winchester brothers.” Dean stood frozen in shock for a second, before looking at Sam mouth wide, “Who taught him sarcasm?” Cas shrugged with a grin.

Sam stood up and stretched his back with a pop and grabbed Dean by the shirt to drag him out of the room, "you two are ridiculous, were you ever going to talk to me about this? Cause I already collected my bet from Bobby after that breakfast you cooked us."

Dean looked scandalized making Sammy laugh out loud as he left through the front door, "what Dean? You have had this weird vibe for months now, and I am ok with it obviously so don't get upset." Sam popped the trunk to take a quick inventory while Dean leaned against the driver side door with his arms crossed.

"Fine, but you're buying me a cheeseburger with that bet money, and we haven't talked about it, so, just leave it be until we do. I don't want him feeling obligated or I dunno," Dean's shoulders sagged a little, "look I don't even know if he gets how much I care about him, I mean he could just expect best friends to cuddle at night I don't know, so anyway, just...don't pick fun at him." Dean knew he should have this talk with Cas, that he was feeding into Dean's touching with those moments of intimate closeness, but Cas was still so new to the entire human thing, he didn't want to risk ruining everything.

Dean must have zoned out because he jumped when Cas's hand brushed against his wrist and Dean glanced up to see his concerned eyes. "You okay?" Cas asked squeezing the bone softly. "I am sorry for being what you said sarcastic, did I hurt your feelings?"

Sam chuckled and slammed the trunk with his stupid floppy hair blowing in the wind making Dean scowl. "No Cas, were cool," Dean looked back at Cas with a smile, "lets go! Cas you're in back."

The town was only about a 45 minute drive from Bobby's and the car ride was silent for the most part, all three men deep in private thoughts. Sam cleared his throat upon pulling up to the old farm house. "The paper said there were four deaths in the house in the last two weeks, all by the victim jumping from the roof and breaking their necks," Sam folded the newspaper up and glanced at Dean, "there has to be a grave yard around, the previous owner lived alone here for almost 50 years its gotta be him." The men slid out of the car and opened the trunk for salt and shotguns.

Cas looked around the house, eyes up toward the roof with a concerned look on his face. Dean nudged his shoulder, "hey, what is it?" His eyes didn’t move from the rooftop and Dean looked up to see nothing. Cas looked to Dean, "I'll be right back," and flew off before an protests.

"Dammit, I hate when he does that," Dean grumbled slamming the hood and threw the shovel over his shoulder. "I'll head to the graveyard, you want to check out the house? Any urges to jump off the roof--run you idiot." Sam fixed him with a bitch face and walked into the house to find their ghost.

Dean pushed through some brush that an old worn trial followed around the barn toward what he thought was the graveyard. It was old, some tombstones cracked or weathered down until the names were worn off completely. The fresher gravestone stood out easy and we pushed the shovel into the soil to dig it out.

"Well, you are pretty," a smooth voice chimed from his left and Dean's shotgun was pointed at the blonde haired man leaning against the tombstone. "Oh Deano put that away you can't hurt me with that," Dean lowered the weapon with hesitation at the trickster. "Look I am here to warn you, that's it, I want nothing to do with my brothers plot of destruction, but you need to understand something about Sam." Dean tensed but lowered the weapon completely to cross his arms over his chest.

Gabriel continued, "look, I'm a nice guy, I left heaven not long after Lucifer fell, I love it here, so now think of this as a 'do not bother me after I help you' bargain." The angel conjured a lollipop and pointed it at Dean, "Sam is not over his addiction, never will be, and he will feed on it again."

Dean growled at that and Gabriel fixed him with a raised eyebrow, "you are the only one who can help him control it, use it to your advantage, if you don't get a grip on your demonic side you both will be worthless." The angel walked forward into Dean's space, "you have to tap into that little demon of yours to work with him or it won't ever work, he is powerful, but needs control, figure it out, I won't tell you more."

For such a small vessel the archangel was scary, and Dean hadn't realized he was talking to one the entire time until Cas flew in front of him, hand braced on his chest in protectiveness, "Gabriel." The one word came out flat and emotionless and Dean peered around his angels shoulder to fix the other angel a glare, "Gabriel? As in the archangel Gabriel?! Fuck Cas lets go." Dean wanted nothing to do with one of these guys, who knows if what he said was truthful or not, his other brothers were destroying the world!

His shovel stabbed into the ground one last time to break the coffin, and bent down to break it open. "Cas give me a hand," Dean asked with his hand extended but Cas ignored him still staring his brother down. "Cas! I mean it, help me get me out of here so we can go, goodbye Gabriel thanks but no thanks for the advice." Cas turned and pulled him out easily and they set fire to the corpse hoping it was the correct one and Sam was ok, and with a flutter of feathers Cas transported them to the farm house.

"Is he still around?" Dean asked looking around but Cas shook his head no. "Well what the hell Cas? How did Gabriel find us that easy?! I thought we were warded? Shit..." Dean stared at his friend biting his lip, it couldn't have been Cas he tailed right? "Cas, buddy, we are going to have to ward you or something. I think he found us through you. Shit, the others wouldn't know cause Raphael thinks you're dead." Oh thank god literally. His heart pounded at the thought, and he grabbed Cas' arm with worried eyes, "don't ever go between me and an archangel again Cas, ever!" He all but growled, "I can not..." The lump in his throat throbbed, "they took you from me once, I will not, can not, deal with that again Cas, promise me dammit!" His grip tightened on his bicep. Cas needed to hear it.

Cas just nodded and placed his hand over Deans on his arm. They stayed like that for a breath before Dean walked away towards the house to check on Sam. It happened so quick he had to be hallucinating...had to be, but there he was, Alastair sitting on the steps watching their interaction with a sick fascination. Dean froze in step when his head started going hazy, no no no, and Alastair just laughed at him. He had to be in his head, his own mind messing with him, right?

He felt lightheaded and fell down to the ground, face slammed into the dirt. Everything felt like it was on fire, it started in his fingers, moving up, like the fires in hell we licking up his limbs. Gabriel's voice yelled in his head, "Dean you have to learn to control this or you will be worthless, you have this, its you doing this, stop it, control it!" but Alastair's chilling laugh echoed him out in his head and he nearly blacked out as he pulled his body into a fetal position.

“It burns!” Dean roared face down toward the dirt, his hands pushed into the loose soil as a spasm of pain shoot through his spine, knees trembling wanting to collapse under his weight, and the sheer volume threatening to topple a tree on top of them.

“Dean?!” Cas’ voice yelled out as he slid into the ground, knees kicking up dust, he grasped his friends face to lift his head, “What?! Where?!” he asked desperate, watching the black pool of darkness fill in the white’s of Dean’s eyes. Cas’ panic tenfolded, “No, no, no, no, Dean! Focus, you gotta focus,” his own eyes are frantic as they turn to the faraway house, “Sam!” he yelled hoping his human voice would carry that far, “Sam!” he screamed again as Sam’s large frame burst through the front door, shotgun in hand, most likely hearing his brother’s screams more than Cas. Dean’s hands grabbed onto both of Cas’ forearms tight, green iris’s flared bright as if they were fighting the blackness.

Cas was confused and scared at the painful expression on Dean’s face, this was suppose to be a quick hunt, salt and burn, and Dean was suppose to be at the graveyard burning the corpse, and had just appeared next to Cas. “Where does it hurt?! Dean! Please,” he was still mostly an all powerful Angel but Cas’ arms shook from the stress. Dean’s head flailed back into another piercing scream, “Ahh! Cas! I can’t,” he managed to get out as he took in short inhales desperate for air, but each expand of his lungs burn him more, everything burned, like his blood was on fire. Dean didn’t know what was happening, it felt like he was drowning and burning at the same time. A battle that was raging inside him.

Alastair’s chilled voice meet his ear, tongue wet as it licked the outer shell, _“You left part of yourself back in the Pit. Let’s see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?”_ Alastair leaned down and touched Dean’s shoulder in a gentle press of two fingers making Dean’s arms instantly tremble as the tattoo’s began moving like smoke and burned further like little ants on fire crawling over his skin. Sam finally reached them and fell onto the ground, hand grabbing Dean’s shoulders tightly in brotherly love with a small,” Dean!”

Dean’s body convulsed as the tattoo’s started to glow. Sam looked at Cas, forehead wrinkled forward in confusion, but the thought was barely processed before Dean caught Sam in the eye, and with a choked, “help me” he collapsed limp in Cas’ arms.

Cas was frozen in place, his heartbeat racing in his vessel fueled by fright, and Sam’s long fingers check for a pulse and sigh when he finds it. “Cas what the hell? Where did he come from?” Sam said maneuvering Dean’s weight off of Cas to lay  him on the ground, he rested his head easy and peered up to see a wide frantic expression upon the Angel’s face.

“Hey, Cas? “Whoa, don’t freak! He’s fine, Hey!” Sam wrapped his lanky arms around the still kneeling Angel hoping he would catch his frantic breath, “you gotta take deep breaths, not enough Angel mojo to monitor that now, come on.” Cas tried to take in a deep breath but his fright was getting the better of him.

Dean stirred, pulling his legs into his chest in a fetal position, a deep painful moan on his lips. They shared a frightened look before a blast of energy sent them flying through the air. Cas rapidly flapped his massive wings to stop mid flight and flew in a blink of an eye to catch Sam, his head an inch from hitting the metal wall of the shed. “Thanks,” Sam mumbled, hand gripped tight on the front lapels of Cas’ jacket to steady himself but they stood in stunned silence at the empty yard.


	8. Don't ever leave me

Dean could feel the power humming softly with in, he stood tall and angelic, chin upward, eyes pools of tar as he flexed each wing casting the land below in shadows. Both tattoo’s moved like ink in water, rippling across his skin. From below stood five demons, their eyes a matching black, fixing the half breed with a look of pure hate.

"Where the hell did you come from?" The larger of the few barked out, as he dropped an innocent couple dead at his feet. Dean turned toward the monsters and calmly flew forward, his movements graceful yet that of a soldier, so far from the Dean Winchester everyone knew and loved. The moment the tips of his boots hit the street the closer of the two ran at him. Dean waved them away like swatting a fly, sending them flying through the air into cars. He grabbed hold of two others, and in an intense shot of light, exorcised the demons to hell.

The first demon stared back angry and snarled, "what are you?!" Dean paused and glanced down at his arms, taking a second to flutter the smoky wings in the wind. He shot his eyes back up, feeling anger course through him at an alarming rate and he could feel the warm heat of power pushing out of him. He wanted to hurt this demon.

The other two demons rushed his side and he caught them in the face exploding their essence into a billion pieces of white light. His attention went back to the other man, breathing calmly, letting the power he held coarse heavy in his veins. The demon smiled wildly, "Lucifer would love this," and flew from his vessel in a tornado of black smoke. Movement to his left stole his attention from the sky, as Alastair entered his space and walked around in a circle as Dean’s head turned to meet his.

 _“Wow, they continue to take my breath away,”_ he dramatically touched his chest in awe and reached a hand out to touch the feathers. Dean tugged the wing away before his fingers took hold making Alastair shake his head, _“Tsk, tsk, Winchester, this won’t do.”_

Dean watched quietly, he felt in control and that scared him more.

 _“You know your father was made of something unique, the stuff of heroes,”_ Alastair said with a sneer as he continued to walk around Dean as a predator hunting prey. _“And then came Dean. Dean Winchester. I thought I was up against it again. But, daddy’s little boy, he broke. He broke in thirty!”_   his movements stopped and he fixed Dean with a sadistic smile, “Ah, just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, Winchester.”

Dean could hear the words spoken but chose to stay calm, Gabriel’s instead staying strong in his head. With a flutter of feathers a large black crow flew straight at him and with quick fingers caught the bird around the neck. It fought the grip, feathers exploding everywhere from panic, but the warmth he had felt before in his dream slide down through his arms, into his fingertips, and the bird could only manage a sorrowful cry as the life drained from it. Alastair raised an eyebrow and smiled so big his eye crinkled almost closed, and with a snapped of his fingers, he was gone. Dean searched the landscape for a sign of the man but he was no where to be seen. The crow laid dead in his still tight grip and he pried his hands open to watch it fall with a thump on the ground like Sam had in his nightmare.

He stretched his wings feeling no remorse for the dead creature. The feeling of long thin bones moved along his back, no longer a phantom limb but fully a part of his body. It was exhilarating to feel such a new piece of himself and without another thought he took flight, flying through an unseen dimension and landed with a rush of dust onto a roof. His arms stretched wide, the night air crisp against his skin.

A flutter of wings rang out behind him but he didn’t turn to move knowing the exact way those wings sounded. “Dean!?” Cas’ voice rang out but the man continued to stare up into the sky.  Small tentative foot steps echoed behind him as Cas walked closer, “Dean, are you ok?”

He felt ok, the burning had seemed to settle into a deep throb in his chest, and as Cas walked into his vision he realized his feet weren’t touching the rooftop. His wings fluttered softly like a lazy bird mid glide, each feather flowing like smoke, changing shape and taking form in seconds. It was hypnotic to watch and Cas reached his hand out wanting to touch him but was stopped by the coal black of Dean’s eyes as they stared back at his best friend.

“What happened, Dean please, let me in,” Cas barely whispered, his hands outstretched in want. Dean watched Castiel carefully, and something flared in his chest. He was scared he would lose control and hurt him like the bird that had laid dead at his feet. Its black wings like Castiel's broken and frayed across the street. As he regained his awareness all he could see were the midnight black and navy wings behind Castiel, clear as day, shining in the small amount of light, so utterly perfect for Cas he felt panicked.

“Dean, are you with me?” Cas continued to speak but he only caught pieces, he felt high, like the very blood was slowing his thoughts, and he glanced down at his forearms to see the moving tattoos cease their movement. He wanted to see Castiel’s tattoo's again, those beautifully detailed lines on his back, and just as his best friend's fingers touch his arm he collapsed into blackness.

“What the hell happened to him?” Bobby’s voice rang out waking Dean. He laid there stunned to be surrounded in warmth and blankets but he feigned sleep to listen in on the answer.

“We don’t know! He burned the bones and he flew back! Only to drop on the road screaming something burned inside of him,” Sam’s loud voice ricocheted up the old house staircase easily and Dean winced at the words. “Cas had flown to the roof seeing the ghost, and was with me then he heard Dean scream and flew out to see him in the lot. Then he kinda flew off himself and shot Cas and I clean into the air! I almost cracked my skull open then Cas found him on the roof of the barn completely lost," Sam's breaths came in small gasps and his fist slammed on a wooden surface, "Bobby he’s seeing things, bad things, and I don’t know what to do! It's was not Dean in that yard!” A snap of wood and a tumble of books made its way onto the floor but Dean laid there frozen in place.

A warm hand rubbed a circle on his forearm and he cracked his eyes to see the bright eyes of his friend, “Hey.” Dean swallowed and breathed in the heavenly scent of morning dew on his angel and rolled over to press his entire body against his. The pointy bone of Cas’ hipbone made its way into Dean’s grasp and he pulled him closer needing the contact. Tears pin picked his eyes but he just nuzzled his nose into Cas’ shoulder and pillow. Castiel breathed a content sigh, drawing his arm up and pulling Dean almost on top of him. His hand rubbed soothing circles along the knobs of his spine and Dean felt the heaviness of sleep settle on his mind again.

“We need him Bobby! Not you, me or Cas stand a chance of doing anything against this thing with out him! and we are losing him! What if he goes dark side and I can’t get him back?” Sam’s voiced cracked at the end and a shuffle of feet told Dean Bobby wrapped the larger man in his arms.

“Cas don’t leave me,” he mumbled against his skin. “Please, you save me over and over, I need you,” he pulled back and stared at his friends handsome face. Cas smiled softly and nodded, his hand sliding up to rest warm and heavy against the back of his neck. “Cas?” Dean whispered, taking in the water blue, letting it wash over him, cleanse his soul of his darkness, “promise me.”

The dark haired man pulled him in slowly, their lips barely touching with rapidly beating hearts. “I have always been yours, forever, I promise I will never leave you,” Cas said sharing his breath with Dean making the hunter shiver.

"Thank you," he breathed out and closed the gap between them. Their lips rested softly against one another, neither man wanting to push it any further, and they pulled away with shy smiles like they were high schooler's experiencing their first kiss. A blush ran hot up Cas’ neck and Dean grinned brightly.

“Hi,” Dean said through his smile, and Cas’ blush ten folded. “Hello Dean,” Cas managed and glanced up with his lip between his teeth. “Did I just take your first human kiss?” Dean asked pressing his face back into his shoulder, legs wrapping up around his angel's.

Cas chuckled and slid down to face the hunter, “maybe,” and pressed another soft kiss to his lips. Dean laughed feeling light as a feather but needing to tell his angel what happened, "Cas, I keep seeing things, and I don't know what's real and what's not, Sammy's right I don't have control over this thing." He pressed closer into his neck kissing the skin between sentences. "I saw you at the graveyard, you stood between Gabriel and me. I made you promise to never do that, were you even there?"

"No, I was with Sam the entire time, Gabriel was there?" Cas asked aggressively wrapping his arms tighter around Dean’s waist. Dean pulled his head back slightly, "he seemed to say Sam was a weapon...that he would need to drink demon blood and required me to be in control of my demonic side or Sam would become lost to it. Cas you think it was him? How could I make that up in my head?"

Cas stared deep into his eyes sadly, "we have to research it, you are unique in your kind, but we will work this out, Sam will be okay." At those words the door to the room burst open and Sam’s tall shadow loomed over the couple.

“Hey guys, we have to talk, come on, kissing time later,” and he marched right back out leaving the door wide open. Dean shook his head and slid his lips up to capture Cas’ one more time, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth with his tongue before letting go. The drugged happy look on Cas’ face made it difficult to want to stop, he was addicting this adorable.

“We can talk about this," he moved his hand between them, "later, we should anyways, well need too, but business first,” and at the loss of dreamy looking Cas he leaned in one last time hovering a hair away from his mouth, "I meant it though, that I need you." Cas took a sharp intake of breath at hearing those words again and closed the small distance between them, slotting his lips perfectly in Dean's. "I need you too, always have."


	9. Putting Together the Pieces

Sam was pacing when they got downstairs, and Dean motioned for the couch with a nod of a hello to Bobby who was leaning against the desk surrounded in books on the floor. “Okay, look, this is all I know. I heard what you said Sam, but listen,” Dean ran his fingers through his hair and over his face.

“I killed demons last night, I zipped off and killed them just like Cas could do with the light of grace I had no idea I contained,” he slumped back in the cushions. “I saw Gabriel at the graveyard, I think he was there, warning me about Sam. I could feel him, feel his grace, but some how Cas was there but he wasn’t and that’s where I get confused.”

Sam’s fists were drawn tight along his side in anger at the entire thing, and Dean’s guilt sank heavy in his chest at the issue being him. “Sam I don’t know, I can’t tell what is real or what isn’t. You have died to my touch, I see Cas hanging from rafters drained of blood. Things happen in my head, and I think its all my memories of Hell. Why I keep seeing Alastair, and Meg sometimes, its brought out when I tap into my demonic powers.” Cas leaned against the doorway in deep thought when Dean looked his way, fighting the urge to have a drink.

“I can drain the life from people and things, with my hands, but I could feel the loss of control. Everything was a sea of black, hazy, as if the light inside of me was burnt out. The only thing that brought me back was Cas,” Dean said realizing that it was always Cas who brought him back to Earth.   _He will need a shield and a sword for battle that is more power than anything man can forge._ Dean stood up, jaw opened as the pieces clicked.

“You both are it, we are a unit, and team,” Dean said pacing, eyes darting along the floor as he thought everything over. “A shield, Cas you are my shield!” he said towards Cas whose face lit up in understanding. “And Sam your powers, thats what Gabriel said, he told me to anchor you so you could control your powers and not lose yourself.”

Sam took a deep inhale, “why didn’t we see that before? Heaven, Earth, and Hell…” He reached down to pick up some books as Bobby folded his arms tighter around his chest. “Well if that’s the case boy, then what do we do with that? You have to train with your powers? Seems like you lot are suppose to fight the archangels but how could you possibly stand a chance?” Bobby said glaring at nothing particular and hating the entire thing.

“I don’t know, not even sure what my powers are,” Dean said slamming back into the couch feeling tired. “But its a start,” he said hopeful for the first time in days.

Cas seemed to agree and offered a warm smile his way which was more than enough to motivate him into action. “Let’s practice flying, anything involving my powers, we have to try right? And Sam,” Dean said offering a confident stare at his younger brother. “We will figure out what your role is, what all our roles are because we never follow the rules. God or not, we will do this shit our way got it?”

Dean didn’t want to think about Sam drinking more demon blood or him killing things with his hands. He didn’t understand why God had placed this prophecy in place, or where it came from but if it saved the world they had to try. Bobby’s huff interrupted his thoughts and he looked to his father figure just as he spoke.

“I don’t like it,” the older man said, “demon blood can not be on the table again for Sam, Dean no way, we aren’t risking it because no amount of talk can convince me that its a good idea. You controlling or anchoring him to earth is not a good enough answer when he has to use demonic powers to exorcise demons Dean, it makes no sense.” Bobby folded his arms tighter around himself looking anywhere but Dean but he knew what he said was valid, and that he didn’t trust that Dean could help Sam if it came down to it.

Cas stepped into the room, still wearing Dean’s hoodie and tight jeans from Chuck and Dean found himself suddenly distracted by the combination. It made his hair darker, near black looking but the black hoodie brought out the piercing blue of his eyes and made him want to drag the angel back upstairs just so he could see them more up close.

“Let’s figure out a plan here, we all don’t like it,” Cas said eyeing them all with a look that screamed him least of all, “but if my role is to be a shield of sorts, then I think I do that, I already have done it actually.” His water blue glances his way and Dean can almost feel all his worries wash away with those words alone. “We need to figure out your triggers Dean, why hell creeps back and you hallucinate those moments until you can’t function as yourself. That has to be our priority, and if that involves me then I say we start there.”

Sam nodded in agreement but looked worried overall, his brow furrowed forwarded until two lines appeared between his brows. Dean knew he hadn’t told Sam much about Hell, and he still wouldn’t, never. He glanced to Bobby as he shifted around to pull some books from the floor that Sam must have thrown. He coughed lightly, feeling his emotions threatening to get the better of him. This was his family, but it was also his team, and they would fight this together. There was no Dean running into battle alone anymore, and for once in his life he was thankful for the burden to be spread across them.

“Ok,” he answered slapping his knees. “Lets go outside Cas, see what we can work on.”

-

Outside was quiet, deathly quiet but Dean and Cas made their way around a few piles of cars where they promptly sat on the ground to talk. Dean had grabbed a beer for them on the way out the door and they both drink in silence in the beginning not really sure where to start.

“Dean, I thought we were talking,” Cas said in his deepest voice yet, and Dean chuckled as he turned towards his blue eyed angel.

“So we are suppose to, okay Cas,” Dean said taking a swig of his beer, “I will be honest with you, I am not sure I can fully control this thing.” As he said the words he could feel the swirl of darkness with in his blood thump at that, feeding off his doubt but he pressed on wanting to be honest. “He just shows up, and the moment I see him I can feel the darkness override my every thought. But when I was killing those demons Cas, I knew what I was doing, and it felt so good, the power. It was like when I was in Hell torturing souls, I feed off of it, and it feels more like a drug. How can I stop it when I can cause so much destruction? I can kill so many Cas if you let me loose, my question is how do you bring me back?”   

Cas seemed to think on that for a moment and drink his own beer with small sips, sinking back against the old rusted car with a distance look. Dean let him think, knowing Cas was a stategist, and ridiculously smart when it came to seeing the entire plan.

“This all worries me Dean, what if I can’t bring you back? and we can’t test anything without letting you lose yourself to it. It seems like what you have is what you have called things a lose lose situation. Where in the end we might have the means to take on the archangels but I am not sure we are enough if I am honest. We need an army Dean,” Cas said looking towards the sky as if he saw heaven through the clouds.

“So we make an army Cas. There has to be other angels, the hunters will fight for us, there has to be more people who can be on the front lines as he take them on. This is the Apocalypse if we lose its over, the Earth is destroyed,” Dean said swirling the bottle between his legs. “I dunno Cas, lets start with something simple for now, and we can think about the bigger picture tomorrow. I still feel weak from everything that happened.”

Cas smiled and suddenly stood turning to face Dean with his brighter expression. “Okay,” he said before a rush of wind flapped past him and the large ebony wings came into view. Dean’s jaw dropped and he stood pressing his back to the vehicle with the palms of his hands.

“How do you do that?” Dean said taking in the full beauty of their span across the lot. Cas just chuckled and held his hands out.

“I just can’t believe you see them, they were always there, shielding you from harm, brushing a demon away, or laid over you while you slept.” Cas blushed to that but Dean only pushed forward grabbing his hands and tugged him into a heated kiss. Fingers locked around the back of his neck adjusting their angel making Cas moan softly against his lips. Dean only smiled as he chased the sound, letting his other hand snake up his back and to the base of his wings digging his fingers into the soft down feathers.  

“Dean,” Cas breathed against his lips forcing him to open his eyes to blue. “Yeah Cas?” Dean answered, wanting the distraction that kissing Cas brought as he tugged him closer chasing his pulse down his neck.

“Dean your wings are out,” Cas breathed out again and Dean paused an open mouth kiss against the pulse point. Turning his head he looked behind him and saw the terrifying smoke filled wings. Floating in the air, even resonating the small twitches of his shoulder blade. He could feel them now, the connection to his back as if it was a limb and he tested the pull of muscle to open the wings to a full expanse. “Holy shit.”

Cas continued to stare at the large black wings with a mixture of confusion and awe. He had never seen something before, but as most things involving Dean Winchester, they looked stunning on him. As if they were in fact everything he was. “You know Dean, wings take on what we are inside, the deepest parts of us design an Angels wings. Yours are beautiful, yet terrifying. Untouchable,” he said trying to touch a feather but it only swirled around his finger to retake the space. “I do not think your wings are like this because of your demonic side Dean, they are what make you Dean. The smoke was manifested I believe over feathers because you are not a pure angel, and the amount of grace required to produce angel wings would be immense.”

Dean let Cas walk around him, almost wishing he could feel the touch along his feathers but as he turned he saw him. Alastair sitting on a car a few yards away, staring at him with pitch black eyes, and Dean’s entire body went rigid as he continued to look at the man who made him who he is.

“Cas, he’s here,” Dean said not removing his eyes from the spot, and Cas turned to follow his gaze not seeing anything.

“I don’t see him Dean, he’s not here, make him go away,” Cas said walking in front of Dean and pressing his palms into his cheeks. “You are with me, do you understand that?”

Dean nodded but couldn’t remove his glance from the demon even with Cas moving his face he still saw him in the distance and his hands began to tremble feeling the slide of something dark move inside of him. Revenge. He wanted to hurt Alastair, see him on the rack so Dean could play with him. Screams filled his ears as he felt the heat against his skin and he lashed out, pushing Cas away just as he felt a burst of energy come from his body. He floated up in the air, eyes shifting to a dark midnight black as he saw Alastair’s smug smile before he disappeared.

“No,” Dean cried out, and flew towards the car sending it across the lot with a wave of his hand. “Where are you?!” He screamed sending another car flying as he looked for the man who ruined him, tainted his very soul into a monster.

“Dean!” Cas cried out, and he paused and looked at Cas floating in the air with him, his wings beating to keep him afloat looking more angelic than Dean had ever seen him before. Sam had ran out the door with Bobby and Dean caught his eye seeing the shift of awe that his brother must be seeing. With a smirk he flew towards Sam and before anyone could stop him he took off through another dimension to land in an alleyway where a line of demons were crowding a small factory space.

“Hello,” Dean said pushing Sam forward with a crazy expression, “go on Sammy, I have your back. Here let me help!” He screamed out flying towards a demon and placing both his hands on either side of her face illuminating her eyes in a burst of white light. The other demons had ran forward on the attack just as Sammy lashed out with the demon knife he had on him thankfully.

“Dean?!” Sam called out confused and not sure what was happening. He lashed out and slit the throat of one of the demons and the rich smell of blood suddenly became all he could concentrate on. With shaky hands he struck out another demon before he was sent flying into the air only to be caught by Dean and set back down. Sam looked at his brother with wide eyes, as Dean hadn’t even looked at him, his eyes of black darting around taking in the hell spawn pouring into the space by the hundreds.

“Time for a test Sam,” Dean said just as Cas appeared and took Sam from his arms making him bark out a crazed laugh as he pushed forward to kill the closet demons around him. Cas and Sam were no where to be seen but Dean didn’t mind, something was calling him, begging him to hurt all these demons. Sending them to hell was too easy, no he wanted them destroyed.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice echoed out and Dean turned to see Cas and Sam fighting the horde of demons storming the factory building. He waved his hand sending the demons around them flying into the air and Cas turned to face Dean and in a blink was before Dean pressing him against a wall.

“Dean, stop this, where are we?” Cas growled out, his hand around his throat. Dean only smiled, eyes of black blinking towards the angel as he watched Sam slice another demons throat. He didn’t know why he brought them here, all he knows is that he followed Alastair here, and he could sense him. The demon was here somewhere, and if they had to kill all these demons to find him he would, and Cas wouldn’t stop him. It happened in seconds, an artery slashed open sprayed Sam’s face in crimson and they made eye contact a moment before he felt the same pull he had to Cas tug harder from Sam.

What happened in milliseconds was too long for anyone to stop it as Sam licked his lips, tasting his drug of choice along his tongue, rolling it as it slipped down his throat. Dean bit his own lip, feeling his own loss of control as Sam’s eyes flicked to a midnight black of his own and pressed his mouth to the bleeding wound. Before anyone was prepared Sam stood in the center of horde and held his hands out, chanting the exorcism in his head, as the blood dripped from his mouth. Dean held the demons in place, forcing them not to move as Cas glanced back with horror.

“Dean what are you doing, stop this, that’s your brother! What are you doing, look at me!” Cas screamed out as Sam kept his eye contact on Dean and the entire place filled with black swirling smoke as if a raging tornado had blown in. Cas let go of Dean and flew towards Sam, wrapping his large black wings around his body as the smoke went up in flames as the demonic souls were sent back to Hell. In a rush of wind around the brothers all the bodies of the people collapsed unconscious but most alive.

“Sam,” Cas said still holding his wings around Sam’s body and watched as the blackness faded from his eyes and back to his hazel brown. “Cas?” Sam asked wiping his mouth seeing blood. “Oh my god, Cas where are we? What happened?” he asked wiping his mouth, spitting the blood on the ground. They turned at the same time towards Dean who wasn’t standing there and Sam gripped onto Cas’ forearms to keep from falling over.

“What the hell,” Sam said looking around at the bodies, but also feeling ok. “Cas did I drink it?” He had to of, it could still taste it on his tongue and he spit again on the ground feeling disgusted with himself. Cas nodded but pressed two fingers to his head looking for any signs that it affected him and not finding anything.

“Sam, I think Dean was controlling you,” Cas said with a shaky voice, “your eyes were black as his but I sense nothing demonic in you other than the in your blood from birth. He tapped into that, made you drink it and you both held eye contact the entire time. It was frightening.” Cas had to find Dean, his trail had to be still fresh from flying off.

“Let me take you back to Bobby’s, I have to find Dean Sam while his trail is fresh,” Cas flew them home, and pressed off immediately in flight hoping to find Dean before something else bad happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Still working on this story so let me know what your thoughts are :D Bahh its getting so exciting!


	10. Thread of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some sexy times are at the end in case you want to skip them [but why would you its kinda cute third base sexy times]

Dean flew off and landed with the silence of a breeze next to Michael. One would think this the worse idea the Winchester ever had, but right now, the darkness in him was in control. Hungry for answers and revenge for a demon he didn't know still existed or was a figment of his imagination. Dean was desperate and knew they would know.

As simple as if they were having a mid afternoon date they faced one another. His father's eyes held all the difference with the Archangel wearing him as a meat suit. And Dean clasped his fingers behind his back to stare at the angel who had caused all the problems for Earth. His golden wings were alight in the fiery blazes of all the buildings. Screams of people that he knew he couldn't save pierced through the air, but Dean remained still. Eyes only on his enemy.

"Michael," Dean said with his chin high, feeling more confident than he should but some how knowing he was in no danger. Michael's grin was manic and near explosive on his father's face. With a slight turn to face the building behind them, it exploded in a fiery blast rocking the earth below their feet. The dark parking lot flickered in all the colors of the flames and as Dean looked beyond the two of them he could see the entire town was ablaze.

"Dean Winchester, come to show off what daddy gave you," he said with a sneer. Lucifer landed beside him in a rush of wind. Their wings in direct contrast of one another Dean found him self disgusted at the bat like wings of the angel. They rippled like sails on a boat, paper thin, stretched wide with white bones. Fitting for the King of Hell but more so proving the damage Hell had on even a beautiful angel like Lucifer.

"Ah, you are stunning," Lucifer said licking his lips as he took him in. Dean kept hearing that from every demon but something about Lucifer saying it made him shiver. Maybe it was from his own onyx eyes focused on the father of demons, that Dean wouldn't have this side of him if he hadn't created hell like he did. Lucifer seemed to have read his mind and smiled with a wickedness. "Just what I have heard from the hoards of demons that you continue to slaughter in your little war."

Dean smiled at the comment, "Well we are at war. It seems fitting I actually make a dent in your numbers. Now tell me where Alastair is, that's all I want." The demand came out confident as his smoke filled wings flared out ready for take off. Dean shifted his weight positioning himself on the defense without making it obvious. Lucifer laughed into a smirk worthy of Sam's before shaking his head. Confident strides made their way towards him but Dean rose his hand pausing the Angel's steps.

"Don't come any closer," Dean said cocking his head feeling his powers amplified by the swirling darkness in his soul. "Where is the demon?" Lucifer tried to move again but couldn't. And dropping the smirk into a full sneer it twisted and changed his face until Dean could see his true face in the illusion over his human vessel.

"Release me Winchester," he growled out, wings flaring out. And in seconds Michael had Dean by the throat lifting him in the air as an Angel blade pressing into his chest. "Want to play? Make demands?" The angel's grip tightened but Dean only stared down with angry black filled eyes. Slowly his hand clenched and Lucifer couldn't manage not yelping in pain, grabbing at his heart as if he was dying of heart failure. Michael glanced over with confused eyes and glared back pressing the blade into his chest until blood ran in a line down his front.

"Stop this! What are you?" Michael screamed as black smoke threatened to leave the archangels body. Michael threw Dean across the parking lot as an explosion blew up beside them. Fire rained down in soot and lit debris but Dean only floated down hand out holding onto his control. He stared at Lucifer determined to prove a point and to have them leave with this threat on their minds.

"I can send you to hell. I am powerful enough even if you are part angel, so am I. We are on equal footing Lucifer, and where you have powerful allies we will make up for in numbers." The archangels glared up as he lowered his hand, wings flapped behind him, mixing with the smoke of the fire as he remained hovered in the air.

"Showing off Winchester?" Lucifer said with gritted teeth, "you can't win, but you can try. Our armies will collide and it will be a glorious battle." And in a rush of wings both Lucifer and Michael were gone.

Dean landed just as Castiel rushed in and barreled through him pinning him against the rough asphalt. "Dean are you crazy?! Why didn't you take us? Why!" Cas screamed punching his face and lifting him by his shirt again. "Why make that risk?! Look at me, come back to me dammit!"

The curse word off the Angel's tongue was what brought Dean back and his eyes slid to green as he saw Cas. His entire being blew out in Angelic anger, wings flared out and knuckles bloody from hitting his face. Exhaustion suddenly pulled from the back of his head, and he closed his eyes a moment as he felt Cas fly them home. Bobby's house filled his senses along with shouts of surprise from his family. And Dean welcomed the familiar sounds and smells.

"Dean?!" Sam's voice called out as he felt his shirt ripped open and Cas' cold hands touched the wound on his chest to attempt to heal it.

"What the hell happened to sticking to the plan? I told you all it was a ridiculous one and look at what happened. Get up boy," Bobby's grip on his shoulders pinned him against the couch and Dean squinted his eyes trying to figure out if this was real or not.

"Dean wake up," he said and Dean watched the words leave Bobby's mouth but he wasn't sure what he said. Everything seemed hazy, like he was sitting underwater and he flicked a manic smile onto his face as he thought on Lucifer's face. It was perfect. Seeing the King of Hell drop to his knees with his powers gripping him to death. He could feel the angel's grace in his palm, as if Dean had thrown out an invisible line and tied it around his grace. The demonic twisted darkness that felt so like Dean's was there. Lucifer drew him in, as if their darkness welcomed the connection, but Dean was somehow stronger. And even though he had made that threat, he didn't know why, just that it worked. He could send Lucifer to hell, kill his vessel, force him to find another who wouldn't fall apart under his immense powers. The pull, that thread of power he felt between souls, grace, demonic darkness was what he kept using. And he reached out now sensing Castiel's radiant grace, mixing with a soul he didn't know he had. He wrapped around it, tugging on it feeling himself feel with a sense of calm as Castiel's grace inside him hummed in approval. He suddenly felt powerful, like he could destroy someone into a thousand pieces with his mind.

Cold water splashed down his face and he stood up throwing his hands in the air sputtering. "Son of a bitch! What the hell guys!" he cried out wiping his face to see the three men holding weapons at him. His hands went up in defense and he took a step back. "Whoa now, what's going on. It's me here," he said eyeing the two angel blades and shotgun pointed his way.

"You weren't you a moment ago boy," Bobby said not lowering his weapon and Dean met Cas' wide eyed expression, holding his own chest like Lucifer had.

"What did I do? Cas?" he took a step closer only to wince as they held the weapons up higher. "Guys its me, all Dean, human sane Dean. I swear..." He turned around unable to face the confusion on his families face. Cold hands touched his shoulder and he turned embraced by Cas' arms. He hugged him back, breathing in his unique scent as he tucked his face into the soft groove of his neck. Bobby's voice broke the small moment, "come on, no sappy business in this house."

Dean pulled away from Cas and turned to Sam who was hovering by the doorway still wielding the angel blade. "Do you guys mind if Sammy and I have a quick chat?" he asked not dropping his eye contact with his brother. Cas and Bobby filtered out to the kitchen, and even though they most likely would listen in. The illusion of them being alone for a moment was appreciative.

"Sam? I'm sorry," he said moving to make a drink and sat down on the desk to face Sam who was putting the blade back in its place by the door.

"Yeah, I hear you. How did you do it?" Sam asked leaning against the door. At those words Dean stared hard at Sam, focusing on the soul he felt burning hot and so bright under his skin. It was apart of him. A beacon of light in every way, but a darkness swirled and dodged the light in contrast to the soul. And Dean chased it and grabbed it with what he could only describe as a thread of power. Sam's eyes went wide for a second and flicked to black. Dean finally feeling more in control felt the darkness in his brother take over his soul, painted it, coating every part of it in sheer blackness. He broke the connect with a gasp and fell off the desk feeling lightheaded. Sam ran to his side lifting him up as if he hadn't just touched his brothers soul and moved him to the couch. "You ok?" Sam asked and Dean realized he hadn't a clue what he did.

"You didn't feel it?" Dean asked closing his eyes.

"Feel what? Did you do it again?" Sam asked as he heard the thundering footsteps of Cas and Bobby. Dean leaned his elbows on his knees and pointed towards the desk. "Yeah, hold on, stand there." Cas now in the room Dean felt a wave of strength and he pulled from both of them. Using a small amount of energy from Cas' grace and wrapping himself with Sam's darkness. In seconds Sam's eyes flicked to black making Bobby grab for a weapon, but before Dean could command his brother into anything he felt large hands grab his shirt and all he saw was blue.

"Dean stop, please," Cas said nothing more than a whisper as he felt his powers fade and he collapsed forward.

"Let's go to bed, Sam help me get him upstairs, that's enough practicing, talking..." Cas said breath coming out in quick gasps even though he lifted Dean with ease. "Just sleep it off Dean."

Cas laid in bed not feeling tired at first. He was concerned over everything but more so that the Dean he knew kept disappearing from view. Whatever war happening inside of Dean, there was a side winning, and that side wasn't his anglic side. Cas had to figure out how to tap into that side, make what ever connection he felt when Dean had touched his grace help him with out draining himself. He tucked in closer to the hunter, for once not feeling weird about watching him sleep. He hoped he was giving him peace just being here, cause Cas knew Dean needed him more than he was letting on...and Cas wasn't going anywhere.

\--

Cold feet was what woke the hunter and he shivered tugging the blanket higher until he hit a hard chest snoring next to him. His eyes opened blurry and tired, breathing in the familiar scent of his angel and he smiled to press closer and steal any of the heat Cas had. A strong grip moved across his hip and he felt himself roll against it, biting back any reaction as he pressed up against his thigh.

"Cas," he said voice scratchy and deep from sleep. The angel only grinned pretending to sleep and chose to bury his nose into his neck. The hot air against the sensitive skin igniting Dean into action as he captured the sleeping lips and moved his hands onto hips to grind himself more against him.

"Wake up," Dean begged, kissing down his neck. Flipping them over so he was pressing the plane of his chest against his. He groaned at the lack of response until he felt a chuckle in Cas' chest and he glanced up to see sky blue wearing an amused grin.

"Is this how people wake each other up normally?" Cas said so innocently that Dean blushed in embarrassment.

"Well, with me they do," he said to cover the red in his ears by resuming to kiss down his chest, drawing a wet circle around his nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

"I need you," Dean whispered sliding his left arm under Cas and sucked open mouth kisses down his stomach, nipping and biting. Eliciting the sexiest sounds from his Angel.

"Dean," His name coming out deep with lust, Dean barely had a second to hide his own moan to that. "Yeah Cas?" he said pulling down the fabric of his pants his hand under him lifting up until he could slide them down towards his thighs. His smell overwhelmed him so close to what he wanted, no, needed to do with Cas. And his other hand pressed up against his erection as he rested his chin on his hipbone to stare up at the wrecked state his angel was in. Cas' hips moved against his palm, rolling in soft waves to feel the roughness of aged calluses catch along his sensitive skin.

"Please Dean," was all he managed to say before Dean set the tip to his tongue and slid most of the length deep into his warm mouth. Cas let out a moan he never heard on the Angel and Dean chased it, wanting to hear every noise until he lost control. His hand lifted and controlled Cas' movements under him as he pulled most of the way up and sucked hard on the head before dropping down. Cas' hand gripped vice like behind his neck, but never motioned to control the movements. Small breaths gasped between Cas' lips as Dean continued to draw him closer and closer to climax, and the moment he felt everything white out Dean held him between his lips. Eyes of jade staring up at his with a glint of mischief and something only Cas could describe as cocky.

"You're ridiculous," Cas managed to say as Dean wiped at his mouth wearing a rare smile, "and beautiful you know." Cas knew most people said that to him but Dean leaned forward to capture his lips as he reached for a small bottle of lube.

"Only you can say that too me...and I believe it," Dean said against his lips, rubbing himself shamelessly against his stomach as he poured a small amount of lube in his hand. Throwing the bottle he coated himself in the cool liquid and Cas' hands replaced his wrapped tight around him kissing down his neck.

"It's cause it's true," Cas said tugging him harder, twisting his wrist with a flick at the end making Dean lunge forward with his hips. "You have a beautiful soul too," Cas continued sucking hot and wet kisses across his collarbone and chest until Dean moaned hard and dragged him up to take his lips back in want. They kissed fiercely, tongues pushing deeply against one another as Dean felt himself losing control. He drew him deeper in his mouth, letting Cas control everything so he could forget the war they were in, let him forget about what happened early that day.

"Cas," Dean breathed against his lips as he's overwhelmed by his orgasm. Laying still a moment, desperate for his heart to slow down in pace he returned a lazy kiss with Cas who smiled and kissed him back regardless of the mess.

"You know I fucking love you right?" Dean said not looking away, "I have loved you forever. But with this war Cas, with me losing my head. You have to know, cause I don't see us getting out of this alive. And you deserve to know."

Cas could feel the honesty pouring from Dean and he smiled warmly and kissed him softly. "I love you too, but we won't lose. You are too stubborn for that."


	11. Shield For Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Training session - next chapter will be a battle scene WOO

Dean was pacing outside, body soaked in sweat and grime from working on his Baby. A few weeks had passed and in that small amount of time, Bobby had managed to gather a hoard of hunters to his house. Like a hippy convention there were tent's erect all over the large yard. Small fires, and freshly hunted meats filled the air with a smokey deliciousness that Dean wouldn't ever admit was heaven on earth. The pacing came from the fact that he was seeing Gabriel happy and content in his field of vision on a pile of tires and Dean wasn't sure if he was there, or if the angel was like Alistair and all in his head. 

"Gabriel, please tell me you are real," he said scratching his head, glancing sideways around to be sure he was alone. The last thing he needed was for a group of a hundred hunters to hunt him down because he lost control. That was the troubling part in all this. No one knew about Dean's powers yet. Practicing came down to flying to remote parts of the world, and even then Dean was still having trouble touching Cas' grace without draining them both to near unconsciousness. Gabriel smiled with a wiggle of his bottom on the tire at the remark and Dean sighed taking off in a blink of an eye to an open field a state over that he came to practice and hide alone. The Archangel followed easily, and met his steps as the man continued to pace even in the new location. 

"Of course I am real, I am just good at hiding," Gabriel replied with a wave of his hand and forced Dean to sit down. "What? You are making me dizzy, calm down, and listen to me before your boyfriend finds us." Dean's wings flickered in the earth plane at that comment, billowing softly in the wind as Gabriel plopped down next to him in the lush green grasses. "Look Deano, I want to help you. But I have to be careful. They are looking for me, hunting more like it and its only a matter of time before they find me." 

Dean nodded in understanding after talking to the brothers he could imagine the entire demon and angel network fighting to look for the wayward brother. Gabriel opened his palms to the sky and turned his body until their crossed knees touched. "You need to practice using Cas' grace, but he's weak. Our father stripped a lot of his powers and what's left of his grace is slowly forming a human soul. Not like me, I am pure grace and I want you to try to tap into it without knocking yourself out." Gabriel nodded to his hands, and Dean pressed his palms into the smaller vessels and closed his eyes. Any training has come welcomed, and just feeling the presence of Gabriel's palms radiated peace in the hybrid. 

"You feel a tether, that's your links to both your demonic, and angelic side. It's Cas' grace that marked you when he pulled you from hell Deano, not your own. Think of it like a imprint, like the hand print scar use it to touch not pull like you do with Sam," Gabriel said as Dean let the warmth of the Archangel's grace to fill his own soul. Invisible fingers pressed against the bright orb of light, sending Dean with power he could barely contain. It consumed him faster, like an uncorked barrel of wine it gushed out, filling his head with a rush of energy that launched the pair from each other. Both men flapped their massive wings to keep from flying away and floated down to face off in the empty meadow. Dean wiped a line of blood from his nose but rose his hand to send out his powers to touch the grace of the angel. Gabriel stood still, swallowing thickly at the energy leaving his body but Dean focused on not taking, not pulling, just borrowing. "Good," Gabriel said, "now let it shield you. Manifest it into a physical barrier."

Dean attempted to visualize a shield of sorts, but that wasn't what the angel was telling him to do. The grace was stronger that anything felt on Cas, and it pulsed deadly in his head. Filling him with an internal battle of his three sides as the grace wrapped in his soul as a mark flared to overpower. His head hazed, eyesight crossing as he shook it to regain some control. But he felt the blackness that usually accompanied this training with Cas fall in place and his knees fall as he gripped his head to keep awake, severing the tie with a snap of power. Blood oozed from his nose, dotting his lips with the coppery substance as Gabriel flew to his side lifting him up on his feet to heal and remove the staining. "Not bad Deano!" he said clapping him harder than necessary on the shoulder.

"Gabriel," Castiel said a few paces back, and the older brother turned to see his youngest sibling with open arms. "Cassy! How are you baby brother!"

Castiel had felt Dean leave the yard almost instantly, but had a feeling he had came to this secluded spot for some peace from the hunters. Dean watched in fascination as both sets of wings flared out from the brothers in aggression and their angel blades formed in their hands. Cas' ebony near midnight blue wings darted in a backwards pull of muscles as if he was to take flight, but Gabriel's actually made the hunter stagger back. Tawny brown as a barn owl, golden reflects like the brightest amber reflected across the feathers that faded into a near chocolate color at the base. But that wasn't what caught Dean off guard, it was the two sets of smaller wings at the bottom. "Dude you have six wings!" Dean said in awe thinking back to Michael and Lucifer who only had one like them. 

"That's because I am an Archangel idiot, and my brothers lost their wings when they sinned against heaven," Gabriel said with bite, watching Castiel circle the pair aggressively. "Cas what the hell he was just helping me!" Dean called out, making quick steps to put himself between the brothers who now had their blades raised in combat. "Whoa! Calm your tits, put those away, we don't need fighting between us," Dean said trying to understand why things had became so heated. 

"Dean you don't need him. How do you even know he is helping and not with them," Cas said angry, ending in a growl on his lips that sent a jolt of arousal through he hunter that he wouldn't tell a soul about. The hunter's wings faded as his own control faded and he turned his head back and forth between the two with pure confusion. "What?!" he cried out, "your joking." But as the words left his mouth Cas charged forward with an attack on Gabriel, the movement so fast Dean twisted in the air and landed harshly on his stomach. The two angels blades clashed unnaturally in the meadow and Dean scrambled up to watch them fight not sure what to do. 

"Stop!" he yelled, flying towards the pair tugging on Castiel with strength he didn't know he had sent him flying backwards in the meadow. Dean punched Gabriel in the jaw only to have himself launched into the air and into a tree. Falling in a heap at the bottom, he quickly recovered to walk out with determined steps and rose his hands just as his eyes pulled into deep blackness. Wrapping his powers around both angels, their grace attached to his force bending to his will like he had done with Lucifer. But not draining like he usually did, restraining, and both angels dropped to their knees eyes wide in sudden realization as they were forced to stop. Dean wasn't aware but he was floating, wings flapping gently in the wind to keep him above the ground as a blue light manifested between the angels pushing them firmly away from one another. Gabriel rolled, landing crouched on the ground with a glimmer of mischief as Cas landed perfectly on his feet with a matching smile. In seconds the angel was in Dean's space, wrapping his arms around his middle. "You feel it?" he asked in a deep voice as Dean's black eyes followed the movement of his lips. 

"Yes," Dean said, finally noticing that he didn't have to do anything but let the connection happen. Looking out at Gabriel he focused on tugging his grace, siphoning it to himself as the Archangel's smile faded to a grunt of pain. "Cas bring him back before he kills me," Gabriel winced as a blue light entered his eyes. Dean kept pulling, filling his body with the grace of the angel as it gave him power beyond anything he ever felt. "Dean," Cas' spoke a hair from his face and Dean's eyes flicked to his angel's with sudden realization and they both landed back on the ground with a fast drop. Dean was quiet, tattoos moving in a ripple on his skin as he closed his eyes to release Gabriel from his hold. "Okay," he said to himself, letting his powers not control him and instead allow his human side rule them equally. Hazel quickly replaced his onyx eyes and he opened them to Cas and Gabriel who were side by side with looks of approval and excitement.

"You both were playing me," he said in observation and Cas at least had the embarrassment to glance over at Gabriel for the excuse. "It's fine, I mean, it worked. That was the first time I actually felt like I could touch your grace without it consuming me. It's a start, what did I do?" He asked a little concerned that some moments were hazy, like when the battle raged inside of him he was at a loss of control. Gabriel formed a chocolate bar and plopped on the grass rubbing his arms. "That hurt, we are not doing that again," he said pointedly at Castiel who gave him a 'yes we are' look back. "But yeah Deano you managed to separate us in battle, that was what we were wondering. When our father said you needed a shield we assumed it was to protect you, but we were wrong. It was to protect everyone else. I think if you use our grace in battle we can keep most of your hunter friends alive. Just like how you tether to Sam's soul we can practice to touch the souls of all those you want to protect." 

Dean sighed, resigned more to his fate of being used as a weapon against hordes of demons, and any angel who wanted to follow the Archangels into battle and the Apocalypse. "Are you on our side?" Dean asked as Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically. "Of course idiot, why do you think I am letting you use my grace. Cas how do you put up with this?" Gabriel responded with a grand hand gesture of melted chocolate fingers. Cas only shook his head, feeling tired but ok even with Dean using what little grace he had left to anchor him to the earth realm. "More practice?" he asked and Dean nodded in response. 

"Yeah," Dean said with a clap of hand. "Lets get this right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on this again, sorry IRL got me good but I am back! Will try to post once a week if I can. :)


	12. It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: gore, violence, and death

An explosion rocked the earth the second Dean landed near the impala. Sam ran from the house, a fire bursting from the upstairs windows as demons flooded the hunters in the campsite. It was hell on Earth and at the front were the powerful beings of Lucifer, Michael, and Raphael. Dean felt himself frozen in that second, unable to move into the battle as another blast took to the sky in a frightening fire ball. "Dean!" Sam's voice broke over the chaos and Dean turned to look at Sam who was covered in small burns and soot. "Where have you been?! They are attacking do the thing, we need to stop this!" Sam's hands were on his biceps, face long gone of the little Sammy he took care of. 

"Dean," Cas' grovelly voice made him jump as he looked up to see them surrounded. Gabriel was no where to be seen and Dean mentally sent a prayer of 'fuck you' to the archangel. The demon numbers were monsterous. Bobby's shot gun going off as they launched bodies off his deck mixed with rapid firing of exorcisms and screeching from the holy water being thrown around. Dean had used most of his powers for training, and he felt himself too weak to harness anything Cas could give him knowing that his Angel was so nearly drained. A small voice broke off in his head saying that Gabriel could have been the cause for him weakening his powers but it was too late to place blame on anyone, they had to fight. Pushing past his brother his wings shot out, snapping in the wind as Sam stabbed a demon with the knife Ruby had given them before this mess. 

"Dean, do it! I trust you," Sam yelled out, stabbing a demon in the chest causing an orange electricity to explode across its body. Cas was fighting the demons running towards Dean, angel blade swiping out to cut open their bodies filling the already tainted air with blood. _"You scared?"_ Michael's voice filtered between his ears, his head turning to the angels watching the chaos with pleased grins. A blinding pain built up behind his eyes as one of the hunters below lost his head, blood sprayed in the air from the stump before the man dropped to the ground. "Dean!" Sam's voice boomed over the white noise flaring loudly in his head.

He screamed, blood curtailing. Rolling out into a powerful roar as his body lifted from the ground. Every demon stopped attacking, looking to the hybrid's black eyes with fear as Sam stood by his side with matching power. Both their hands rose, Sam walking forward with frightening speed to the closest demon and expelled the black smoke from the host. Dean smiled towards the angels in the sky, his wings flapping as haunting shadows behind him as he rose to their level. Raphael attacked, ramming his massive body into Dean's shoulders tangling their limbs in a flying fistfight no human eye could see. Sam continued sending demons to hell with just his touch, Bobby behind him with a shot gun and his own exorcism shouting off his lips. The humans regrouped, hunters banding together to hoard and gather the demons into a wide circle as Sam kept them in place and unable to move. 

Dean landed a bone crushing punch to the angels face, followed by another to his chest, then jaw. The vessel healed quickly under the onslaught but Raphael wore a crazed expression at the power behind the hits. "Boy you are over your head!" he shouted, drawing an angel blade and slicing across Dean's bicep making him growl out pushing his wings into a dive and swept up to clash with his own weapon. "I am no boy," he laughed out, crazed, twisting over the angel. His blade dove into his back as he pinned his wings and cut the soft flesh holding the muscle. Raphael screamed, blood coating his entire body as they plummeted to the ground. A white light exploded from his vessel when Dean drove the killing shot through his heart, hands holding the angelic wings of the archangel. Cas saw the horrific death of his brother but instead of flying to aid Dean he distracted Michael and Lucifer in the sky. 

"Brother!" Michael cried out, punching Castiel who had managed to fly in the angels way. The hit ruptured his temple drawing a crack across his bone like a porcelain doll. The angel tossed the fallen brother to Lucifer who was breathing in the chaos with a wide manic smile. Not offering anything against Cas but holding his arm around his neck in submission. Cas struggled under the tight hold but was forced to watch Michael tackle Dean the second Raphael's body created a massive crater on the ground. Dean releasing the angel's wings with a sadist smirk no longer his Dean. The entire earth shook, most demons fleeing their vessels but found they couldn't move. Sam's face was covered in blood, stomach sloshing with the red crimson substance of the demon in his grasp. Raising both hands he held the army in the center of the field, finally sparking a frustrated growl from Lucifer. Drawing his attention from Michael, the archangel dropped Castiel to appear right in front of Sam. 

Dean and Michael rolled along the ground, wings and bodies plowing through an explosion of piled cars before they separated and faced off in the dirt path. "Abomination!" Michael screamed, his veins bulging in his neck and forehead as the Earth around them engulfed in flames. "How dare you hurt my family!" Dean cocked his head, smirking with a lick of his bloody lip and sent instructions through the tether with Sam's soul on what to do with Lucifer. Suddenly Lucifer's rage filled screams filled the air along with all the demons that engulfed into a massive fireball in the sky, that quickly turned into a screeching 'stop!'. Michael finally showed panic, his eyes growing wide, flashing in bright blue light. "Stop this!" Michael ordered, throwing his angel blade that buried into Dean's chest flying him backwards to pin him into the side of the barn as his hands wrapped around his throat. "Ill kill you!"

Sam had watched the demons go up in flames just as Lucifer flew down gracefully in front of the group of hunters. The younger Winchester blinked his black eye at the King of Hell with mock expressions worn on Dean and lifted his hand to grin a bloody smile as Lucifer collapsed to the ground holding his heart as he had before. His scream sent all the hunters back from Sam, Bobby pushing them away from the boy who was torturing the angel in front of them. "Sam!" Bobby called out, but Cas' strong gripped pulled the older man back and rushed forward to press his hand into Sam's back sending a shockwave through the crowds. A cold wash in a blue forcefield shot up and around everyone in range and immediately all fell silent. 

Sam blinked his eyes a couple times, feeling the presence of Dean snap causing him to collapse back into Cas' arms. "Cas? What happened?" Sam's voice croaked, and turned to throw up the demon blood in his stomach. The angel was panting, his grace pulsing under his skin and looked up in sudden realization that all his brothers were gone. He released Sam to fly to where Dean and Michael were to find them gone. "Dean!" Cas yelled out, panic marking his face no matter the calm he had brought from the storm of monsters. "Dean!" Cas screamed, not finding a trail usually left by the hunter. Only emptiness. His body appeared next to Sam's having only been gone a second and found the younger brother in bad shape from the blood in his system and Dean being gone. Bobby and the others were putting out the fire in the house, footsteps and shouting erratic again as they saved the home, and Cas remained with his arms around Sam's shoulders surrounded in a sea of death in the field. 

"It's begun," Cas whispered, and Sam shuttered looking out at the carnage. "So it has Cas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like the story so far. We are at the middle, pushing into the top curve soon. It's going to get pretty dark, ill tag in the notes. But please! Let me know your thoughts. :)


	13. Different Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: torture, violence, dark themes  
> ps. its my Birthday! XD hope you like the chapter its covering about a weeks time so if its confusing let me know.

Dean's shadow stretched across the floor, lean lines to what his body really was. One light rested above his head, a burning heat on his crown drawing a sweat to his blood stained brow. Drops cascading over his nose, dripping on the concrete floor below creating the only constant sound in the empty space.  _Drip Drip Drip_  Dean's breaths came short, barely deep enough to move his chest but still tugged on the blade buried in his shoulder. "Dean, Dean, Dean," Alastair's nasally voice floated into the room instantly forcing the man to hold his breath. "Ahhahh, not that." The lean, skeleton like digits gripped the back of his head lifting it until his eyes focused on the man. 

"You're not real," Dean gritted out, eyes a blazed in hatred. Alastair chuckled, head moving side to side in a contemplation of the statement and click of his tongue. "Then how ever do I manage to do this?" the demon said, twisting the angel blade in a circle making Dean scream out. The hand moved to under his jaw holding it up as he pulled the blade out with a sickening tear of flesh, restraining Dean's mouth closed as he cried out a scream caught in his throat. "I am here, cutting you, burning you, hearing you scream," Alistair said cutting a line down the thin skin under his armpits. 

"Where am I?" Dean gritted out, the blade moving as a long bloody line across his chest and up to his other shoulder where it pushed slowly into the muscle. His memory was hazy, a blimp of time marked in blackness that had him waking in the care of the angels, and now Alastair. The demon chuckled, pressing the blade to match his other wound as he licked the blood from his finger tips. "You think about me often Dean?" Alastair asked, walking to a table littered with tools, and Dean's eyes cart around the empty room that wasn't there anymore.

Hell. The heat pressing against his skin making it want to boil but the cold, freezing his core, his soul in fright, pain, and begging for redemption. He closed his eyes, chanting that he wasn't there, but opening them again reflected sealed memories of this exact room. The black onyx walls crowding the space, suffocating him, yet allowing his cries of pain to echo out for all of hell to here. The rack was tight on his arms, chains of barbed wire wrapped multiple times around each arm, suspended in the air so he couldn't move. "You do? Are you now?" Alastair said an inch from his face, the warm heat of his breath that morphed the man's vessel into his true form. Black wings so like Lucifer's. Dean shuttered, claws of the demon racking lines over his chest, down his arms, and thighs. The wounds bubbled and hissed like an acid was poured into his muscles. "Not real," Dean whispered when Alastair stopped, face flickering back and forth between his true face and that of the vessel he claimed. 

Dean screams filled the room again, as Michael watched with a sneer. Lucifer was close by playing cat's cradle with a string. "I'm bored again," Lucifer stated, holding the game out for Michael to help with but much to his annoyance only received the strong back of his brother. Lucifer sighed, standing by his side, bringing light to the dark room no matter the lack there of. "Dean won't be a problem anymore," Lucifer said watching the man writhe under his own painful memories. "He will kill himself before he realizes what we have accomplished, but we can't kill him. Come, I want to go raise War. The horseman would love to join in our festivities of destroying the world." 

Michael's firm gaze rested on Dean tied to the wall, arms above his head as the hybrid continued to scream out in pain but kept talking back to who ever he was seeing. Determination present even after days of mental torture. The archangel glanced firmly at Gabriel who had his legs up on a large couch littered in hundred of pillows. His hazel sheen of chocolate eyes avoiding the pair. Lucifer mirrored his posture as they looked down on his seating position. "Took him thirty to break in hell, lets see how long until he breaks with Angels," Michael said but Gabriel knew was it more an order when the warm press of his palm felt on Gabriel's shoulder, "don't let him leave...yet." He said before they both disappeared. 

\--

Cas had flown all night. Landing in a crumpled heap in the living room where Sam had found him too exhausted to stand. The larger brother lifted him under his arms and moved the angel to the couch with ease. "Cas you have to stop, we will find him. You aren't strong enough to keep flying everywhere in the world. Let Bobby and I handle this, alright?" Sam said tugging Cas's soaked coat off as a rain storm at been attacking their home for the last three days. Sam threw it near the fire, landing on a chair back to dry it quicker. The fallen Angel sighed in defeat, eyes downcast as he was removed of his outer garments. "How do you do it?" Cas asked quietly, laying down on the couch. Sam huffed a sad smile on his face.

"Dean and I have been through a lot, but we always find one another. Not even Hell could keep us apart, you made sure of that," Sam answered honestly. The angel nodded, but found his hopelessness still pouring around him. Cas could feel him through their link, it was faint like he was far away but he could sense him. It was why he kept flying off, when the tether of their bond tugged him hard into flight like Dean was reaching for him. But he couldn't find him on Earth and that was were he was worried. "Sam, Gabriel has been helping Dean with his powers," Cas said to clear the air. Wondering if his added emotions would be what caused him to further fail Dean. The angel wasn't new to all the swirling feelings invading his thoughts, but some of them were growing intensely that he was far from experiencing. Sam dropped the book he had grabbed and sat up to look at Cas with a look of confusion. 

"What? Is that why he kept flying off? I thought he was with you?" Sam asked, standing to pace the floor. "Did he do this?" Cas shrugged but it seemed likely. The last time he couldn't find Sam or Dean they were trapped by the trickster God. The readings were the same, the misdirection when he felt close to finding his exact location. Never having trouble locating Dean, but now the second he felt him he showed up in a different place all together with no memory of how he got there. 

"It feels the same Sam," Cas admitted, not wanting to worry Sam but also knowing they all needed to stay together. He never use to like Sam, thinking him nothing sort of a demonic abomination for over a year. But that all changed saving Dean, seeing his soul blackened, stained in the essence of demonic power stronger than even his brother. There was no saving Dean completely, and he knew he was too late when he pulled him from the room he was torturing a soul in. But even then Dean's soul cried for him, reached for him, and allowed his grace to fill him until most of the bruising from torture left his soul. Bobby had heard from the doorway while holding a box full of supplies for the hunters still camping outside. They hadn't explained much more to the humans about the end of the world, but the hunters seemed to know their role. 

"Do you think he's with Michael and Lucifer Cas? or with us?" Sam asked, running his fingers through his long hair, and sharing a pure look of concern and fright. Castiel pressed the palms of his hands in to his eyes, trying to pin point his best friend. "Probably both Sam."

\--

"That all you've got," Dean growled out, eyes pitch black as another object severed his pinky finger off. The hybrid grinned evilly at that, no longer screaming but radiating a power in the space. "Come on Alastair! Give it to me! Do it! Hurt me like you promised!" he yelled out, spitting a spray of blood on the man burying a sword into his lung. Gabriel watched carefully, quiet, and reserved as Dean had shifted in his physical stance to his more supernatural form. Wings of smoke disappeared through the walls but were taking on a more solid shape, and he radiated power and control that even made him nervous. The angel wanted to enter the space, stop the visions the Righteous man was seeing, but it had to happen. He was already overpowering Alastair after a week of his torturous methods, and the angel knew it was time. Flying quickly off he landed in the living room prompting an angel blade buried into his back from Cas who's hands had immediately wrapped around his neck. 

"Whoa kiddo!" Gabriel said with a boyish grin, Sam's towering form holding his own blade at his chest, as Bobby drew a shot gun. "Nice welcoming party," the archangel said with a roll of his eyes snapping his fingers forcing the three on the couch. He dusted himself off, hopping on the desk to slap his knees. 

"Where's Dean!" Sam yelled out, trying to remove his body from the couch with no success. Gabriel shrugged his shoulders, "he's well."

"What do you mean by that?!" Cas gritted out, the blues in his eyes taking on an electric static that Gabriel could feel in the air. Interesting. The angel shrugged again, conjuring a cup of hot chocolate and settled back on his one hand in a relaxed pose. "Listen little brother, I can't stay long. But you two," he said pointing with his cup to Bobby and Sam. "Need to get to Texas tonight, they are raising War."

Sam looked dumbfounded, mouth hung open for a few breaths as he suddenly exploded, "war?! Gabriel we are living in war right now! You fucking coward! Where is Dean?! Ill kill you if you harmed him!" The younger Winchester's veins bulged along his forearms, his anger peaking with out his knowing and Gabriel watched with matched intensity at the words. Jumping down all humor aside as he challenged the explosion wanting to tenfold. "War the horseman! You are living it but this is only the beginning Sam, and don't think so ill of me," he said disappearing to land back in the warehouse where Dean was silent. His chin rested on his chest as calming breaths pulled between slightly parted lips. Gabriel approached slowly, fingers reaching out to touch the side of his head sending him into his mind. 

\--

Dean's laughter was eerie in the space. Haunting even the archangel who was invisible within the walls of Dean's mind. Alastair looked worn down, no tortured. And as the angel took in the reversed scene his stomach knotted up at seeing the demon secured to the rack as Dean poured sand down his throat. "You liked hurting me didn't you, watching me suffer, calling for my father, for Sam for years," Dean whispered, grabbing the holy water and adding it on top of the sand as Alastair gargled and bled from his mouth. Dean's hands burned from the water but he didn't seem to notice his melting skin, eyes pitch black only on the demon who had broke him in hell. His wings billowing beautifully in contrast to the surroundings. Gabriel shuttered. Knowing Michael and Lucifer were thinking the man would break like he had in Hell but not realizing that in under a week the man wouldn't. But instead become the one behind the blade. Leaving his head quickly, the archangel staggered back taking those few steps away from Dean who's tattoo's moved as liquid along his arms and legs. He could feel his grace being pulled to the man, like Dean was fighting his illusion. Drawing power from a source.  

"Gabriel," Cas called from behind him, making Gabriel sigh at the tactics of his little rebel brother in following him.

"Cassy," Gabriel said holding him back. "Don't touch him," he warned as the dark chuckle left Dean's lips the second Gabriel's illusion broke. Dean snapped the bonds easily, dropping to the floor to lift his head with a rolling crack of his neck. He felt powerful, raising his hands to watch the black of the tattoo's leave his skin in a trailing smoke that blended into his wings. In a blink he was gone, landing in Texas where Michael and Lucifer had already unleashed the horsemen. Chaos was greeted by the hybrid, his steps illuminating a darkness around him as gunfire erupted between hunters, and citizen across a one lane street. Cas landed next to Sam in an instant gripping his arm and flying him to be next to Dean, the pair landing behind him without any acknowledgment from Dean. 

"Dean?" Sam called once before he gasped for air, lifting his hands to his throat as Cas stared firmly at the back of Dean's head. Sam's choke turned into a cough as he was released and felt his brothers powers wrap around him. "Dean stop, please..." was all he gasped out before he could stop the invasion of his body, tentacles of invisible smoke filling his mind as it rushed his head with a threat of lost control. Gunfire suddenly rang out at their bodies, hitting the three in the crossfire with multiple bullets as the towns people and the hunters fault one another. Cas focused his energy on protecting the people in the crowds, not wanting anymore death on their hands but Sam waved his hand and sent the group of humans flying through the air. 

"Cas," Dean growled out, finally turning to face the angel who was suddenly being pulled towards the man. "I need it," he said in a voice not sounding his own, that of the echo reminiscent of hell when a smirk lifted his lips. Cas cried out instantly much like Sam, dropping to the ground as Dean wrapped around his grace and yanked hard. Stealing all his powers in one massive draw that sent a shock wave of bright blue light through the town and passing into all the people breaking the spell. A solid man screamed out of all the people, writhing on the ground in a seize of muscles. Sam appeared by War's side, pressing his boot into now broken fingers as he tore off the digit with the ring. Immediately all fell quiet, the horsemen scrambling back to hold his finger with a mixed look of thanks and frustration. "They will unleash the others," he yelled, staggering up as Sam made to peruse him but stopped as Dean released his grip on his brother. Sam blinked down at the ring in his hand, this time knowing he had made those decisions and not Dean. It had felt different, like Dean was fueling him with power and not controlling him entirely. At the loss feeling of his brother he turned with a frightened yell.

"Dean!?" Sam called out seeing the blood staining the back of his shirt, but as the words left he staggered himself as the bullets that had pierced their bodies suddenly pooled across his own. Dean gripped at his chest, gasping for breath as his lungs filled with the thick liquid. All the hunters and humans were screaming around them again, all dropping their weapons and aiding the ones who they had shot thinking they were demons. Cas laid unconscious on the ground, his wings spawn out on his back and draped over Dean in the Earth plane as if a bird had crash landed against the concrete. Dean couldn't breathe, blood oozing from his mouth as he eyed Sam from across the street. His eyes teared up watching Sam keel over, reaching for the warmth found in his brothers soul. They both gasped when he touched it, their eyes not leaving one another until Sam's closed and flickered against his bond. "Gabriel," he whispered over gargling blood in his throat, hands rested on his thighs as he lowered his chin feeling the soft down of Castiel's feathers on his shoulders. Feeling the chill of death creep around him that was worse than any torture in hell.

"Dean heal them," Gabriel said with words spoken in his head. Dean wasn't going to lose them, and he gripped backwards for Cas, reaching out for Sam as he focused on healing them instead of killing them. Feeling that warm light that came with Cas, seeing a flash of his true form in its celestial multicolored light that had coated him in hell. Cas' brow furrowed in pain, but his eyes flashed open in a bright sky blue to look at Dean as his wounds healed in the bright white light of his grace. Sam's cough echoed over the street and Dean released the tethers of his bonds with a sudden snap that had all three men gasp for air. 

Cas' hands gripped at his shirt tugging him down to the ground and enveloping him into a tight hug. Dean returned it, letting the comfort tear away the hell that lingered in his side vision. Sam's body slammed into both of them tying Team Free Will together in a messy embrace. Sam opened his palm staring at the ring with worry as War smiled and ran from town, "Dean should we chase him down?" he asked standing to take him out. But Dean shook his head, releasing Cas and stood up by his brother. "No, let him run. He can have the ring back once we win," Dean said taking the ring from Sam's palm and slid it onto his finger. "We have more to plan."


	14. Famine

Dean fingered the ring of war under the waning moon reflecting off the hood of the Impala. They had taken a few days to recoup, but as all things with war, there was no actual break. Dean felt different now. Knowing what happened with Alastair had made him more aware of his powers, the darker being that lived under his skin. It was there all along, and now he knew that it was the fuel to ending Michael and Lucifer. That whatever part of Castiel that made him part angel gave him the advantage but if he really wanted this war to end, he needed to embrace his demonic one. Sam had talked to him about the controlling, asking him if he would at least warn him when he took over, but Dean had only shrugged in response. There was no promises coming from Dean anymore, not with the world at risk. He would do everything to stop it from ending. 

"Hello Dean," Castiel's hoarse voice broke the eerie silence of the deserted junk yard. Dean peered up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he put the ring in his coat. "Hey Cas," Dean said patting the edge of the hood with his palm. Cas took the hint easily, sliding up until his arm pressed to his. Cas had taken the longest to recover from Dean using his energy in the fight with War, but more with the healing. Dean could see both their aura's now, almost like he was witnessing their true face in many ways. Sam's changed as often as Cas', no matter his soul was human, the inner demon blood in him would flicker over the warmth that came from Sammy. But Cas was just beautiful. Blue as the water captured in his eyes, Dean felt that light on him always, like the moon was following him no matter where he went.

"There is word on another horsemen being released, Famine. Gabriel just left, didn't want you to know he was here, but I have a feeling you knew and chose to stay out here?" Cas smirked at his corrected assumption and Dean let him have the win on his reasoning. He loved Cas. No amount of supernatural could get between them on that, but he had a job to do. If he didn't win, then whatever they had would mean nothing in the end. No world to wake up and see that bright smile, the one that takes his eyes and charges the blue to deep pools of the setting sky. Dean could count every wrinkle around his eyes, how his grace hummed softly around Dean. The small tethers he always felt as human physically seen between them, like the black smoke wanted to weave into the white of Cas' grace and make one color.

Cas had continued to talk about what Gabriel said but Dean wasn't listening, his fingers ran down the back of Cas' neck. Curling his fingers around the base of his skull where his hair was growing longer. Before the fallen angel could stop him he brought his lips to his, smirking around the softest gasp from Cas. He pulled away a breath, but Cas dragged him closer with a firm tug from his jacket to bring them together again. Dean actually laughed at that, wrapping and tugging slightly at his grace to make him tense. Cas immediately stopped moving, feeling Dean use him even in this moment brought him out of his embrace slowly but Dean saw the swirl of sadness in his eyes before he let him go.

He couldn't help it. Cas and Sam felt good to him, like they actually completed his very being. The final pieces to a set that left him grasping at any small feeling of wholeness he could have. Cas looked concerned now, and Dean decided that was enough of one night. Especially with another horsemen on the loose. "Ill take you, let Sam rest more," he said empty of emotion attached to the stolen kiss, and it seemed to hurt Cas physically as a slap from being referred to as 'you'. Dean deep down knew he was being different, but he couldn't stop it. They had to know what was happening to him, how he couldn't stop the constant span of wings fluttering behind him because they were him now. He was exactly what they needed, a weapon. "Come on," he said, sliding his hands over his thighs before crouching on the hood like a perched bird.

"You have to let me protect you," Cas begged softly, leaning in close until his black ravened wings wrapped forward to drape over and disappear into the paint of baby. Dean flicked his darker eyes down, feeling Cas' grace hum under his skin. "I don't need protecting baby, I got this covered--" Cas' angel blade tucked under his chin, pressing to his neck with a challenging look to his usual passiveness. Dean knew Cas was a warrior for God, that he was more than capable to protect anyone he put his mind too, but Dean also knew he wanted Cas behind him on the battle field. That he was more use if he didn't get himself wounded so Dean couldn't use him in combat. It wasn't anything more than that.

"You threatening me isn't the right way to handle this," Dean growled out, grabbing Cas by the shoulders where they disappeared from the junk yard. They landed in an empty diner, a grayed man in a wheel chair absorbing a bright light from a suitcase. Cas turned his weapon to the demons flanked around the old man who seemed to be moaning in delight at his soul meal. Dean was unimpressed. "I need that ring you fucking ugly son of a bitch," he said wrapping his hands around a demon to stop its motions at attack. Cas went right into battle, demons attacking from all sides, as they seemed to pour into the diner like a caving in volcano.

Famine chuckled a raspy breath of air, his age evident in the brief flash of youth that came with the soul he consumed. But the horsemen didn't seem affected by Dean's demands and the hybrid's anger flared as he gripped the closest demon in battle. Dean threw himself into the fight along side Cas, the angel and him dropping demons with the knife, and his angel blade. But Famine wasn't letting the souls move on, he was absorbing them right out of the air. Dean watching the black twisted smoke intertwine with the human soul and flow right into the opened mouth of the horsemen. "Cas stop!" Dean ordered out, but there was no opportunity to pause, and Dean flew out tackling the horsemen to the ground as the old man wheezed a laugh. 

"Dean Winchester, hybrid hero of the planet Earth. Fixing your mess? Thinking you are the answer to everything when you are so wrong," Famine spoke as a whisper caught in a empty room. It seemed to penetrate Dean to his very core and he quite suddenly felt inclined to stand. He did on solid footing, Cas screaming something at him but all he heard was a blaring white noise and the nasally, voice of Famine telling him he was hungry for one thing. An eery smile pulled sadist and wide across his lips, eyes flicking to black as he peered over to Castiel fighting the last of the demon.

"Dean!!" Cas screamed over the noise, but just as suddenly as Dean's paused steps Cas stopped and looked at Dean. Steps easily taken over the bodies littering the floor, the pair ended up an arms length away.

"Dean, you have to let me help you," Cas said in repeat to what he spoke earlier. Dean wrapped his fingers out and around the hem of his trench coat, leaning in close to breath in the unique scent of his angel. Black onyx eyes pearled in reflection to his angel but Dean felt hungry. So fucking hungry!

"Cas, I can fight him, but I need you," Dean said so quietly in refection to what he wanted, and it nearly came out as a shared breath between them. Cas seemed to be absorbed in famines hunger as well. Feeding the angel with a need to help Dean in anyway, and the hunter was focusing enough on the ring gleaming on the finger of the downed horsemen that he didn't notice when Cas' palms pressed into his chest.

"Dean what do you need?" Cas asked, ghosting his fingers over his shirt. 

"This," Dean said wrapping around Cas' grace, drawing a desperate moan of pleasure from Cas that he was trying to ignore. Turning quickly he flew towards the huntsmen slicing out his blade to sever the nasty digit wearing the ring, and before anyone could see or comprehend a thing. Dean slipped them through another dimension of time and space and they landed in a heap upon a crowded parking lot. Their wings were out, crashing into cars, and peoples screeches filled the air at the sight. Cas reached out himself and twisted them to another location. Wings shot out to land perfectly upon a small hill of grass outside of town. The silence swallowed the pair, both heaving and grasping their chests while regaining their heads. But the residues of Famine clung to their subconscious. Luring them to continue to feel polarized to clash and ricochet off one another if they dared get close. 

"Dont come near me!" Dean screamed when Cas made to touch his hand, Dean hunched forward on all fours on the ground. Wings bellowing and shaking with every tremor that raked his body. "AH! Cas this feeling-- I can't make it stop...make it stop Cas! CAS! Make it stop!" He roared again, feeling his control go up in smoke to fuel his demonic essence. Cas' fingers linked under his jaw, forcing his head up to look into endless blue but Dean's black iris' bled out to consume the whites in a heated lust that had him rushing forward to tackle Cas to the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this story isn't abandoned I am just so busy with life but here is the next chapter! Might get a little smutty in the next chapter :D


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